Reasons To Kill
by Lem1
Summary: Faye kills Vicious before Spike has a chance. While trying to discover Faye's reasons for killing his archrival, Spike undercovers a strange history between Vicious and Faye. FINISHED! "Do a little dance, make a little love...etc."
1. Black Cat

I know, I know…these Alternate Ending fics must be getting tiresome, but nobody really wants Spike to die, right?  Julia, yes, but Spike…?  So read and rejoice as the coolest guy in anime lives on…at least in my twisted little world.  

Claimer: Yes, I DO own CB!  Mwhahaha!  And I'm gonna make another season in which Spike is alive, Faye wears an even tighter outfit (hey, just lookin' out for all you guys out there), and Jet grows hair!  And a new arm…

Warning:  Okay, I cheated a little…Both the Redtail and the Hammerhead are in perfect working order.  Actually, was Jet's ship even broken?  I dunno, but it works here, so nyaa!  

"Any last words?"

"You won't go through with it."

"You think not?" 

Click.

The shot rang out dully, echoing eerily before fading away into nothingness.  A heavy silence froze everything, capturing the moment like a photograph, then – 

Thud.

Slowly, noise crawled back, filling the space death had just vacated.  The distant hum of machinery, the faint scratch of metal on flint followed by the sizzling birth of flame…  The end of the cigarette glowed bright orange in the dim light.  Smoke, released in a hungry sigh, unfurled majestically in the crisp air and drifted upwards, dissipating slowly.  Two more long drags and the cigarette was reduced to an ashy butt.  Confident, unhurried footsteps clicked loudly on the hardwood floor, moving away from the lifeless body.

Spike leaned back in his chair, letting the smooth alcohol roll over his tongue and burn a path down his throat.  In one hand, he gripped his brandy glass, absently swirling the golden-brown liquid.  In his other hand dangled a half-smoked cigarette.  Spike lifted his arm mechanically and placed the cigarette loosely between his lips.  His eyes flicked over to the clock on the wall.  _What am I doing here? _He asked for the millionth time in the past fifteen minutes.  Of course, he knew the answer to that.  He just couldn't admit it, even to himself.  Especially to himself.  The truth just didn't fit in with his whole 'to hell with it, what will be will be' attitude.

He tilted his head back and released a cloud of smoke, watching it float lazily up to the ceiling.  His eyes shifted side to side slowly as he scoped out the small, dusty barroom.  Only two other souls had journeyed to the bar that day, and each looked about as pathetic and miserable as Spike felt.  The older man, long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, stared down into his glass as though he wished he could drown in its watery brown contents.  Everything about him was tired and defeated.  The skin sagged around his half-lidded, bloodshot eyes, and his mouth drooped heavily at the corners.  The other man, younger with sandy brown hair, planted his elbows on the table and pressed his palms into his eyes.  One foot tapped out a slow, heavy beat, and every once in a while, he would snatch up his glass and gulp down a swallow of his brandy.  The bartender had disappeared into the backroom long ago, disgusted with the stench of despair and the sluggish consumption of alcohol.

_What am I doing here? _The question he couldn't stop asking, although he knew the answer.  An hour ago, he knew exactly what he must do.  He stopped by the Bebop to say his good-byes, and then he went on to face Vicious.  Somewhere between the ship and Vicious…

_I got scared shitless_.  There.  He finally admitted it.  But why?  How?  He'd gone off to face certain death many times in the past, and never felt this gut wrenching reluctance.  He'd always been willing, almost eager to discover his limitations; eager to find the fight that he wouldn't come back from…  And here it was.  This was that fight, he was sure of it.  But instead of embracing it, he was hiding out in this shit-hole of a bar, prolonging his wretched life for some unfathomable reason.  If anything, he should be more ready to die than ever.  Julia's gone.

            That short sentence ripped into him like a knife.  He'd seen her directly after death, bright red blood pooling under her body, a few soft, golden strands of hair flung over her pale face.  But somehow he'd kept from processing the implications of her death.

She's gone.  Never again will I gaze into those melancholy eyes, see that wistful twist of a smile…I'll never see Julia again.

            That was the push he needed.  Setting his glass down gently, Spike pushed away from the table, his chair scraping noisily against the floorboards, and rose to his feet fluidly.  He exited the barroom with firm, resolute strides and climbed into the Swordfish II.

A life without Julia is no life at all.

can you see her standing there trying to find anywhere

there are flowers in her hand but she doesn't know why

offered is advice to you but all you do is fake it

she's only yours tonight and she never cries,

I know there is hurt inside, Julia.

drowning in her own visions,

she's begging the past to stay behind

there's a black cat in the night,

there's a black cat in that sky

offered is advice to you, you left but I don't blame you

we're digging up the past to bury it one last time

I know there's pain inside that truth

but you just have to face it

"Jet.  I'm back, let me in."

"Faye?"

"No, your fairy godmother…Yes Faye, goddammit, lemme in!"

  "Okay, okay!"  

Faye landed the Red Tail carefully and leapt out of the cockpit, sighing morosely.

"Ugh, I had a terrible time at the race tracks!" she called out to Jet.  "Not one win…"

"What?  You went to the tracks?'

"Yes, I went to the tracks," she replied irritably, hands on hips.  "I told you I was."

"I mean…  You really went to the race tracks?"

"For the last time, yes!" she shouted, pushing past him.  

"Oh.  Well, I have to go out, get some…supplies," he called, running toward his ship, the Hammerhead, as he spoke.  Faye rolled her eyes.  Supplies.  Yeah right.  

            Spike strolled up and down the hallways of the Red Dragon Headquarters, slouched forward slightly with his hands pushed deep into his pockets.  The building was eerily empty, vacated of human life.  He reached the elevator and rode it up to the top floor, entering a single large room.  It, too, was empty, but Spike spotted a staircase and climbed it slowly.  Vicious, Vicious, where are…you…?  Spike froze in the doorway of the main room.  A body.  Lying quite still in the middle of the room.  Spike freed his hands from his pockets and entered cautiously.  Silver hair, matted with a rust-colored, sticky substance – blood.  It can't be…  He moved closer and prodded the body with his foot.  It was.  Vicious was quite dead, gun clutched in his right hand.

            "You bastard," Spike growled.  "You fucking killed yourself?!"  He kicked Vicious' limp body violently.  "You managed to screw me over, even with your own death, you lousy son-of-a-" A small, yellow object rolled off of the body and stopped at Spike's foot.  He crouched down and picked it up gingerly with his thumb and forefinger.  It was the burnt remains of a cigarette butt.  Spike's eyes widened slightly then narrowed into grim slits.

_"Faye…"_

****

Ok, that's it for now…if you like what you see, review and I'll have the next chappie up tomorrow.  BTW, I plan on having short chapters, cause hopefully I can get them out quicker that way.

**_Also, my next chapter's more action-y, so if you thought this was too slow, just wait…mwaha…_**

**_And (one last thing, I promise) the song in the middle of my fic is by Our Lady Peace and is titled "Julia."  Appropriate, neh?  Didja notice "…digging up the past to bury it one last time," and, uh, "Julia"? _**


	2. i lost control

            **I got one review, yay!  No, I expected that…after all, my first chapter didn't really tell you much about the story.  It was more of a prologue.  Anywhoooo – second chappie, more action.  Read and enjoy…  Enjoy, dammit**

**Disclaimer: Uh…I have a confession to make…the FanFiction police stopped by my house the other night and demanded I tell you the truth – I don't really own CB.  I know, I know, you're all horribly shocked.  Poor Jet will never grow a new arm…*sniff***

you stop the crowd  
i cried out to break the spell  
you wait and smile  
i just snapped and lost control  
  
distracted by irrelevance  
the stress and the tension  
the stress and the tension  
i'm in a lull  
  
there's nothin' more dull than talkin',  
talkin' 'bout yourself  
and what i meant to say  
i'm sorry that I lost control  
  
distracted by irrelevance  
the stress and the tension  
crawlin' through the keyhole  
when i'm in a lull

Faye stretched out on the couch languidly, flat on her back.  She slid forward until her butt met the armrest and her legs dangled over the side of the couch.  One shapely calf swung forward and back absently, as she flipped through a fashion magazine.  She'd barely gotten through the second page when he showed up.

            "Spike!" she exclaimed, the magazine slipping out of her hand and falling to the floor.  Faye propped herself up on her elbows.  "I, uh, didn't hear you dock," she said, trying to regain some composure.  Spike moved into the room, his expression unreadable.  He reached into his jacket slowly and pulled out a thick wad of money, tossing it down to Faye.  She flinched as it hit her chest, spilling onto the floor.  

            "300 million woolong," he said quietly.  She gazed at him questioningly, her heart pounding.  "The White Tiger Syndicate put out a 300 million woolong bounty on Vicious' dead body."  Faye stared for a moment longer, then smirked slyly.

            "Ah, I see…  So you agree that I deserve a percentage of his bounty?  Really, Spike, how unlike you!  But I'm impressed, really I am."  She swung her legs around so she could bend over and pick up the scattered bills.  She'd just finished stacking them into a neat pile when a shadow fell over her.  Glancing up, she found herself staring into a face rigid with fury.  Frightened despite herself, Faye stuffed the money into her jacket pocket and attempted to edge away from him.  Spike reached down and grabbed her by her red jacket, pulling her to her feet roughly.  

            "Ouch!  Dammit…  What the hell is the matter with you, Spike?  Let me go!"  She tried prying his fingers apart, her nails biting into his flesh.

            "You had no right interfering," he said menacingly.

            "What the fuck are you talking about?" she spat, then bent her head forward and bit one of his hands viciously.

            "Fuck!" he cursed, snatching that hand away while continuing to hold her with the other.  She smiled nastily, pleased with her victory.  Spike lashed out and smacked Faye violently, striking as quickly and fiercely as a coiled serpent.  Her neck twisted painfully and she gasped sharply, tears stinging her eyes.

            "300 million woolong," Spike said, breathing heavily.  "That's the value you placed on Julia's life by killing Vicious."  Faye clenched her jaw against the pain of her bruised cheekbone.  

            "You're insane.  I didn't kill Vicious, and I don't give a fuck about that tramp, Julia."  The second slap brought her to the edge of unconsciousness, a loud buzzing filling her ears, the room swimming blurrily.  Her head lolled back on her neck weakly and her lip began to swell and split.  Spike's grip on her jacket was the only thing holding her up.

            "Don't ever talk about Julia like that," he warned softly.  Faye tilted her head forward excruciatingly, forcing herself to smile.

            "You're pathetic," she laughed harshly.  Spike growled angrily and pushed the couch away with one foot.  Shoving Faye backwards, he slammed her up against the wall, bringing his face close to hers.  

            "Tell the truth: you killed Vicious."  Faye looked up at him from under long, dark lashes, her breathing faint and shallow.

            "No.  I.  Didn't," she gasped out forcefully.  He swung her around and flung her across the room.  She hit the floor hard and skidded across the slick metal, crashing into the opposite wall.  Raising herself into a sitting position, she leaned against the wall heavily, grimacing at her many bruises.  Spike started forward, but stopped halfway across the room.  Something about the way her shoulders sagged, the way a curtain of black-purple hair shrouded half her face, her deep-green, liquid eyes downcast – she looked so vulnerable.  Fuck.  Beating up women isn't my style.  What if she really didn't kill him?  Spike ran his fingers through his bushy green hair in frustration.

            "Look, Faye, I'm – "

            "I didn't expect you to be grateful, but jeez…"

            "What did you say?" Spike demanded dangerously.  Faye looked up, pushing the hair out of her face.

            "That's right.  I killed the bastard."

            "For the bounty money," Spike stated quietly.  Faye laughed.

            "Sure, for the bounty money.  What other reason could I possibly have?"

            "But why did you leave the body then?"  Faye grinned obnoxiously.

            "Silly Spike.  Played right into my hands.  It just so happens that I have some, uh, past discrepancies with the White Tiger Syndicate.  I was afraid that, even though I went to all that trouble of killing that bastard, they'd be less than grateful and deny me my money.  I knew you'd be along sooner or later, and well, while you go on and on about that stupid bitch, Julia, you love money just as much as the rest of us.  You couldn't resist cashing in on 300 million woolong."  Spike was shaking with rage.

            "Why you little – "

            "Hello-hello!  Edward has returned to the Bebop-Bebop!"  Ed sprang into the room, her brown face glowing happily.  Ein barked from his position in Edward's arms.  "Ein has returned as well!" Edward sang.  

            "Ed!" Faye blurted out in amazement.

            "Yes Faye-Faye?  Ooh, Faye-Faye doesn't look so good…  What happened to Faye-Faye?"

            "How did you get here?" Faye demanded.

            "I brought her," Jet grumbled from the hallway.  "The little wench hacked into my computer and set the course for Earth."

            "Wench, wench!" Ed repeated gleefully.

            "Yeah, wench, that's you," Jet growled, coming into the room.  "I was doing something really important too, Ed – "  He stopped abruptly, noticing Spike for the first time.

            "Spike!  Is that really you?"

            "The one and only," he responded, smiling slightly.

            "I – glad you're back," Jet grinned.  "There was no way I could keep these two in line without you."  He glanced over at Faye.

            "Christ!  What the hell happened to you?" he blurted out.  Faye looked at him coolly, rising to her feet as gracefully as possible.

            "Just Spike, keeping me in line," she responded calmly, brushing herself off and fidgeting with her hair fussily.  Jet looked at Spike sharply, and even Ed paused in her merrymaking to regard the scene with wide eyes.  Faye strolled over to Spike leisurely.  He turned slightly to face her, his expression unreadable.  She reached into her jacket and drew out the bounty money, carefully selecting one small bill from the wad.

            "You said I placed a 300 million woolong value on Julia's life?  I am truly sorry, I would never intentionally do that."  She tucked the bill into his pocket.  "This will much more appropriately cover her worth."  She patted his breast pocket gently and spun around on her heel, walking out of the room assuredly.  Spike pulled the woolong out of his pocket and stared at it intensely.  After a few moments of cold silence, he shredded it into many tiny pieces and left the remains on the table.

**_Alright, so maybe Spikers was a little OOC.  But I needed him to be a big bully to move the plot line along, ya dig?  Song lyrics by Radiohead, titled: "Lull"_**

**_Stand by for subliminal message…(review, review, review, review, review, review)…End subliminal message._**     


	3. Like a Child in the Rain

**Oh, FF.net…what the hell are you doing to my italics?  I've been putting the character's thoughts in italics, but for some reason the italics don't show up on the FF website.  Sorry if this is confusing, but I don't know what to do!  Grr…  Whelp, thanks for the reviews!  Again, I have to apologize for Spike's brutality…he repents later.  This chapter explains a little more about why he acted so badly…**

For the next few days, Spike confined himself to his room, mourning Julia, cursing Faye, and mulling over Vicious' death.  The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.  When he first deduced that it was Faye who killed Vicious, he knew she must've been after the bounty money.  With Faye, it was always about money.  But why had she left the body then?  At that moment he didn't care.  He had just grabbed the body and shoved it inside his ship.  At some point, he came up with the idea to turn in Vicious' body and collect the bounty himself.  That way he'd have some leverage when he interrogated Faye.  

And that's all it was supposed to be – an interrogation.  But when he got to the ship and saw her sitting there, one slim leg swinging over the side of the couch, absently biting her bottom lip, eyes wide and innocent like a child's – it suddenly infuriated him.  She was supposed to be an insensitive, greedy bitch, not some naïve little girl.  Of course, the alcohol raging through his bloodstream probably didn't help either.

Spike sighed and raked a hand through his hair.  Everything was so fucked up.  If only he hadn't stopped at that goddamn bar, maybe he would've beaten Faye to Vicious.  Maybe things would've turned out the way they were supposed to.  Maybe he'd be dead.  Instead, he'd arrived to discover Vicious' lifeless body, a gun clutched in his hand…  A gun clutched in his hand?  Suddenly things went from confusing to suspicious.  Faye had some explaining to do. 

Hurt me  
Why in the world did you hurt me?  
Just when I thought  
I'd found someone to trust, you took away your love and  
  
Hurt me  
I still can't believe you hurt me  
Just when I thought it was safe to come in  
You let me want you, and need you, and then  
You left me, like a child in the rain  
Now I'm mending myself of the pain  
Oh, you hurt me  
  
Yes, you left me  
Like a child in the rain  
Now I'm lost in an ocean of pain  
Oh, you hurt me  
I fell in love and it hurt me  
Can't you imagine how I'm feeling now?  
Oh, will you ever know how?  
You, hurt me 

Faye sank to the bottom of the tub, her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees.  

Hot water.  Jet must have fixed the pipes.  Probably feeling sorry for me…  

The warm water coursed down her neck and back, soothing her aching muscles.  Most of her bruises had turned yellow-green, though the one on her cheek was still dark blue/purple.  She tilted her head slightly and gently traced the bruise with a well-polished nail, rivulets of water cutting intricate paths across her face.  

Bastard…

            She hadn't seen Spike in two days.  She kept herself locked in her room for most of the day, only coming out for long showers and the occasional snack.  

But it's not like I'm avoiding him…I just have more important things to do in my room.  

Like reading the same magazine ten times, cover to cover.  Faye sighed softly, burying her face in her arms.  

That look in his eyes…like he wanted to watch me die slowly a thousand times over.  That's the look he would get whenever Vicious' name was mentioned – hard, and cold, and unforgiving.  

The sound of the bathroom door opening made her jerk her head up sharply.  Heavy footsteps entered the room and a lean shadow fell over the shower curtain.  Faye shrank back and quieted her breathing.  Something long and white launched itself over the top of the shower and straight at Faye.  She screamed and scrambled to her feet, only to slip on the slick surface of the tub and come crashing down.  The white fuzzy thing settled over her head neatly.

"Faye, come out of there, I need to talk to you," Spike said gruffly.  Faye slammed off the water and wrung out the now drenched towel the best she could.  Wrapping it around herself tightly, she flung open the shower curtain and glared at Spike.

"And this conversation couldn't have waited until after I finished my shower?" she demanded icily.

            "You killed Vicious."

            "Is it just me, or are you also getting a sense of déjà vu?" she snapped sarcastically, shifting her weight to one leg and resting a hand on her hip.

            "But you arranged it," Spike continued slowly, "so that his death looked like a suicide."

            "I don't know what the hell you're talking about." 

            "When I found him, he was clutching his gun in his right hand."

            "Yeah, he pulled it out when he saw me pointing my gun at his head.  You may find this hard to believe, but some people don't want to die."  Spike's mouth tightened slightly.  He's going to lose his temper again…  Faye stepped back nonchalantly, pretending to study her toenails.  Spike stared.

She's not…is she frightened of me?

            "The thing is," he said quietly,  "Vicious never carries a gun.  He uses a sword."

Silence.

            "When I first saw him lying there, I thought he'd committed suicide, as unlikely as that sounds.  Why else would he have a gun with him?  But you admitted to killing him."

            "So he changed weapons," Faye said after a moment, tossing her hair and spraying Spike with cold droplets.  "He got nervous and decided that a goddamn sword was no match for a gun, or whatever.  How should I know?"  She stepped out of the tub carefully and slipped by Spike, murmuring, "Figure it out yourself, cowboy."  Spike turned and watched her drip down the hallway.

"That's exactly what I plan to do," he mumbled, shoving a cigarette between his lips.

Lyrics by Leann Rimes, song titled, "Hurt Me"  (I'm usually not a country girl, but these lyrics fit pretty well).       


	4. A Pretty Face Will Tell Pretty Lies

**Okee, detective Spike, hot on the trail!  Follow along as he sticks his big nose in Faye's biznas (that's "business" to all you non-thugs out there) for no other reason than he's a bored, obsessive, psycho.  And I'm forcing him.    **

Faye was getting more and more tangled up in her lies.  Her explanation of why Vicious had a gun was ludicrous.  Vicious wasn't the type who would just up and change weapons because he got a little nervous.  He didn't get nervous.  If Faye had claimed she'd placed the gun in Vicious' hand to throw Spike off her trail, that'd be one thing.  The fact that she didn't use that excuse was suspicious in itself.  Lying was the one thing Faye particularly excelled at.  Spike concluded that Faye probably didn't use the obvious excuse because it was, in fact, the actual truth – she hadn't wanted Spike to find out that she'd killed Vicious.  The question that remained was why.  Why did Faye kill Vicious?  If he could answer that question, Spike felt that everything else would become clear.

there is somethin' goin' 

down in that room

there is somethin' 

goin' down there

much too late to call it

but I have suspicion

there's a smokin' gun

and a smell in the air…

of lies, lies, lies and other stories

lies, lies, lies to feed the fire

a pretty face will tell pretty lies

a sweet caress can make them

hard to resist

the priestly and presidential

are no more immune

when the chips are down

it's the same ol' tune…

lies, lies, lies and other stories

lies, lies, lies to feed the fire

there's no escape

there is no where to hide

from the harlequin voice

of your earthly desires

oh, tell me secrets

I will tell you no lies

save for the ones 

as the truth disguised

yeah, there is somethin' 

goin' down in that room

there is somethin' 

goin' down there

much too late to call it

but I have suspicion

there's a smokin' gun

and a smell in the air…

of lies, lies, lies and other stories

lies, lies, lies to feed the fire…

telling those lies…and other stories 

"Name?"

"Uh, Spike Spiegel.  I was here just a few days ago – "

"Take a seat over there and I'll let Mr. Almez know that you're here," the receptionist interrupted in a bored tone, studying her long red nails critically.  Spike shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled over to the plush, black leather couch she'd indicated.  Instead of sitting down, he leaned back and regarded a painting hanging above the couch with raised eyebrows.  It depicted a large white tiger crouched over the body of a red dragon, it's long, scaly neck hanging limply in the tiger's jaw.  

            "Well this is new," Spike remarked.

            "Yep, it just arrived today.  How do you like it, Spike, my boy?"  Almez, a short, stout man with a large black mustache stepped forward to stand beside Spike, hands folded behind his back.

            "It's…" Spike floundered.  "Uh, very striking."  Almez nodded eagerly.

            "Yes, it marks the downfall of the Red Dragon and the rise of the White Tiger.  All thanks to you, of course.  Say, would you like me to have one made up for you?"

            "No, no, that's fine," Spike said hastily.  "Actually I was hoping you could provide me with some information.  Ever heard of Faye Valentine?"

*

            Spike felt that there was something wrong with Faye's story on Vicious' death, but after their little chat in the bathroom, he was sure of it.  Something weird was going on and he planned to figure it out.  The first step was to recall everything thing she'd said to him on his return to the Bebop.  Faye was pretty guarded but she loved to hear herself talk and often let a few tidbits of truth mix in with the lies.  So Spike's task was to discover what was true, and what was bullshit.  He decided that the easiest thing to verify was her claim of 'past discrepancies' with the White Tiger Syndicate.  

*

            "Faye?" Almez growled, bushy black eyebrows narrowing dangerously.  "You a friend of hers?"

            "Maybe," Spike said carefully.  Okay, so maybe she was telling the truth about this one…

            "Well tell her to drop her sexy ass by once in awhile!" Almez roared, grinning broadly.  "The boys miss her like crazy!"

            "What exactly do they miss about her?" Spike asked delicately.

            "Saturday night poker games, of course," Almez scoffed.  "You must not be very close friends if you think she's that kind of girl."  Spike stared in disbelief.  "Oh, I know what you're thinking – those tight little outfits she wears, right?"  Almez jostled him with an elbow.  "But Faye's just a woman who knows what she wants, and what it takes to get it."

            "So…  You have no 'past discrepancies' with her?"

            "Aw, hell no.  I mean, sure she relieved my men of a week's worth of pay every Saturday, no doubt playing by her own set of rules, but if they didn't mind, why should I?"

            "Thanks for your time, Mr. Almez," Spike said politely, turning to leave.

            "Sure thing, my boy.  Hey, if you see her, be sure to tell Faye that Vicious is dead."  Spike stopped.

            "Any particular reason?"

            "She'll probably want to come over and dance on his grave," Almez chuckled.  "Faye hated that guy even more than I did."

            "Oh?  And why is that?"

            "From what I hear, the bastard kidnapped her and used her to lure out some other jerk."

            "Oh really," Spike said sourly.  "Didn't that 'jerk' end up saving her ass?"

            "Yeah, something like that," Almez said dismissively. 

            "Sounds merely inconvenient, not grounds for hatred."

            "Oh, I agree.  If that is indeed the whole story."

            "What do you mean?"  Almez sighed.

            "You're a nice kid, Spike, but a little naïve."  Spike raised his eyebrows expressively.

            "If you're saying what I think you're saying – "

            "Look, my informant insisted that Faye was alone with Vicious for hours before this other guy finally showed up.  Regardless of how you feel about her personality, Faye is one incredibly attractive woman.  And Vicious is – was – the most ruthless, twisted individual in existence.  You do the math."

            "Vicious isn't motivated by human emotions, such as lust; he lost all trace of humanity long ago," Spike said firmly.

            "That just confirms it," Almez said quietly.  "Rape is one action that requires a certain lack of humanity."  Spike processed this information, stunned into silence.  **I never even considered the possibility…**  He tried to recall her face, her demeanor directly after the Cathedral.  Of course, he'd been unconscious for three days, but she had seemed fine to him.  Same old obnoxious Faye.  Spike felt a hand rest on his shoulder.  

            "Hey, it's just a theory I came up with," Almez said kindly.  "My informant was rather unclear on that subject.  Vicious ordered everyone out of the room, so no one really knows what went on in there.  Except for Faye, and I'm willing to bet she'll be rather close-lipped about the whole thing."  Almez smiled jokingly.  "Anyway, you're a nice guy, Spike.  Faye might not admit it, but she needs a guy like you to look out for her.  Take care of her, won't you?"  Spike hunched his shoulders and nodded guiltily.  Almez clapped him on the back.

            "Good!  Drop by anytime, my boy!"

            "Just one more question!" Spike called after the syndicate leader's retreating form.  Almez paused, looking at him expectantly.

            "Who's this 'informant'?"

Lyrics by Rob Birdwell, titled "Lies and Other Stories."  Thanks to all those who reviewed last time…and for those who didn't, listen to my super-fly song:

****

**_Pretty puh-lease review,_**

**_I'll love ya if you do,_**

**_I'll think you're real coo'_**

**_If you don't I'll throw poo…_**

**_Right at YOU!  _**

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**_That makes you want to say nice things about me and my fic, right?  Riiight… _**


	5. You Gonna Crawl Finding the Truth

**Hey!  Thanks to Moonwhisper for e-mailing me on how to solve the italics problem…  The thing is, I've already written a lot of the story on a regular blank Word document, I've just been copying and pasting onto the web page.  I've always done that, and it never gave me any problems before.  Well, enough of my blabbering…  On with the fic!**

You make me mute   
Hiding the truth   
Revealing a farce   
Created by your mind   
  
What do you expect   
Exposing your lies   
Printed in your eyes   
There's no alibi   
  
To cooperate and not be allowed   
They're killing my name

 sewing my mouth   
  
Prospect in life   
Lost in the line   
To cooperate   
And just be alive   
  
You gonna fall hiding the truth   
You gonna crawl finding the truth   
To blame myself it's my disgrace   
To blame the world by my mistakes   
  
Turn around and turning around   
And turning around and inside out   
Turn around and turning around   
And turning around and inside out   
  
Do not disturb !   
Leave me alone   
The fear within inside and beyond   
The fear within inside and beyond   
  
You make me mute   
Hiding the truth   
Revealing a farce   
Created by your mind   
  
What do you expect   
Exposing your lies   
Printed in your eyes   
There's no alibi   
  
You gonna fall hiding the truth   
You gonna crawl finding the truth   
To blame myself it's my disgrace   
To blame the world by my mistakes   
  


Spike picked his way through the garbage in the narrow alley, going over his mental checklist:

**Faye's Truth:** past problems with the White Tiger Syndicate prevented her from cashing in Vicious' body for the bounty money.

**Actual Truth:** Faye is on excellent terms with the White Tiger Syndicate.

**Conclusion: **Faye didn't need Spike to turn in Vicious' body; she could've done it herself.

**Theory: **Faye did NOT kill Vicious for the money.  Perhaps instead for revenge (rape)?        

Spike stopped in front of a faded green door, a plump rat scurrying over his shoe.  He glanced down at the address scrawled on the scrap of paper he held, comparing it to the set of gold numbers on the door before him.  The numbers were almost impossible to read underneath a thick coat of dirt and grime, but Spike shrugged and knocked loudly.

"Hey!  Anybody home?"  Spike waited, listening.  There was no answer.  "Mr. Shlage…  You in there?"  Nothing.  Spike took a deep breath.  "Shota Schlage!" he bellowed.  "I know you're in – " Spike cut off abruptly as the door was flung open and a hand dragged him inside.  

"Are you crazy?  Do you want them all to know where I am?"  A short, wiry man with unkempt hair and a week's worth of stubble glared at him furiously.

"Shota?" Spike asked.  "Shota Schlage?"  The man hissed at him, putting a finger to his lips.  

"Shh, jeez, not so loud!  They're listening, I tell you!"

"Who?"

"Who?  Are you kidding me?  Everyone!  The last of the Red Dragon fanatics, bounty hunters, rival syndicates…  Doesn't matter that I was just a simple henchman, everyone wants me dead!"  Schlage leaned forward, peering at Spike blindly in the dim light.  "Say, aren't you Spike Spiegel?"  Spike nodded and Schlage snorted.  "Well, then, you ought to be ten times as careful as me.  It's a wonder you're not already dead!"

"Yeah," Spike said bitterly.  "Listen, Roberto Almez of the White Tiger Syndicate said you could give me some information."  Schlage licked his lips and rubbed his hands together eagerly.  

"What kind of information?" he asked slyly.  

"I understand you were present when Vicious kidnapped that Valentine chic," Spike said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets.  Schlage blanched.

"No, no.  I already told Mr. Almez everything I know about that affair," he protested, shaking his head.  Spike jiggled his right hand, causing the coins in his pocket to jingle enticingly.  Schlage licked his lips again, eyes darting around.

"What exactly interests you about that particular topic?" he asked lowly.  "If I remember correctly, you were there."

"Not for all of it," Spike responded.  "I wasn't there when Vicious told his men to leave the room and he and Faye were left alone.  But you were."  Schlage groaned.                

"How could I be there?  He told everyone to leave – " Spike leapt forward swiftly, towering over Schlage.

"But you're a spy," Spike said firmly.  "It's your business to know things and your nature to want to know things."  It was a long shot.  Spike didn't know for certain that he was a spy.  Schlage claimed he was a simple henchman.  But it made sense if, in fact, there were as many people after him as he claimed.  Spies hoard secrets like others hoard gold, and there's nothing more dangerous than secrets.  Those who know the secret want to kill you, and those who don't know, want to find it out and then kill you.  As far as Spike was concerned, it was a lose-lose situation.   

"I didn't want to know this!" Schlage cried, covering his face with his hands.  "I'm not even sure what I found out, but I've been tracked relentlessly by red dragons ever since that day…" 

"What?" Spike demanded breathlessly.

"If I'd known the trouble this was going to cost me…" Schlage muttered in agony, tearing at his hair.  

"What?" Spike repeated through clenched teeth.  Schlage focused his attention back on Spike.

"I dare not say anything," he whispered, wide-eyed.  "He could be listening."

"He?  He who?"

"V-v-v-vi-vi-" Schlage stuttered uncontrollably.  Spike felt the pit of his stomach turn to ice.

"Vicious."

"Yes!"

"Vicious is dead," Spike told him fiercely.  Schlage gaped.

"Maybe…" he murmured.  Spike waited expectantly.  "Would you like a cigarette?" Schlage inquired abruptly.  Spike's eyes lit up and he reached for the pack Schlage offered him.  Just as he was about to open the carton, Schlage said, "You can't smoke in here."  Spike stared at him.

"Then why the hell did you offer them to me?" he exploded.  Schlage gestured impatiently.

"Just…  Keep them to smoke later."  Spike shrugged irritably and shoved the pack into his pocket.  After all, he was out of smokes. 

"So what's this damn secret, anyway?" Spike demanded sulkily, turning as Schlage scooted past him and sat down at his desk.  He grabbed a pen and began to scribble furiously.  "Almez seems to think that Vicious raped Faye," Spike went on, trying to sound casual.  Schlage jumped to his feet nimbly and opened his mouth to speak.  Nothing came out.  His eyes rolled wildly and he crashed forward, landing directly at Spike's feet.  

"Shit!" Spike cursed, leaping behind a plush chair and whipping out his gun. A small, silver dart gleamed wickedly, sticking out of Schlage's back.  No windows or openings of any kind, so how were they able to…  Ah, surveillance camera.  The camera was rather cleverly concealed as the center of an ornate flower carving on the desk Schlage had been sitting at.  Next to the camera, Spike surmised, would be a tiny opening to let a poisoned dart pass after being triggered by a remote control mechanism.  Spike took careful aim and shot the camera, incase there were more darts.  He crawled over to Schlage and flipped him over.  

"Too bad," Spike commented.  "And I was just about to find out…  Hello, what's this?"  Spike noticed a bit of paper crumpled in the ex-spy's hand and proceeded to pry it loose.  "37 Albatross Street?  Great, another address.  And it's not even on this planet."  Spike gazed woefully at Schlage's scrawled handwriting: Mars.

"Dusted" lyrics by Sepultura.  

**_Next chapter you'll  see a little more of Faye…  REVIEW!!!_**


	6. Goin' Nowhere Fast

****

Faye marched into the living room area of the Bebop, where the couch and television were located, and placed her hands on her hips, scowling.  Spike still wasn't back, and it infuriated her.  At first it was nice, not having to tiptoe down the hallways, peering around every corner.  But after the first few hours, she began to get nervous, paranoid even, expecting the volatile, poofy-haired man to materialize at any moment and catch her off guard.  Then she grew angry, convinced that the wretch was doing this to purposefully torment her.  And Faye Valentine was not one to be toyed with.  

            She stomped back to her room and slammed the door, hunkering down on her mattress sullenly.  She was still wrapped in her white, terrycloth robe, sickened at the thought of redressing in her old tight, yellow outfit.  It lay harmlessly on the floor of her room, and Faye stared at it accusingly.  She couldn't explain her revulsion, but she knew she couldn't wear it again.  Her eyes traveled from the floor to the small, wobbly table next to her bed.  300 million woolongs were stacked neatly.  Well, 299 million to be exact.  She'd found the shredded remains of the woolong she'd presented to Spike on the coffee table.  Faye glanced from the money to her clothes, and back to the money.  She smiled slowly.  She could stand to wear that despicable outfit one last time.

I've been thinkin' about my situation  
Nothin' too intriguin', maybe time to change up  
Throw a curve ball, try a different route  
Work some new things in, work some old things out  
  
Sorta feels like I'm goin' nowhere fast  
Judgin' from the scenery could it be I'm there at last  
Send a postcard, tell you all about  
How I worked some new things in and worked some old things out  
  
The audience last night was dancin'  
I knew right then I had 'em hooked  
Liked the way I did the cover  
Hoped that they might read the book  
Took on that identity like it was comin' from my heart  
And they made such a big deal of it:  
Starin' at the smallest part  
  
When I finished with the number I stumbled over what was next  
I can make it simple for ya, I've developed quite a complex  
Sometimes I look at the set list and in my mind I have my doubts  
Time to work some new things in and work some old things out  
  
The audience last night was dancin'  
I knew right then I had 'em hooked  
Liked the way I did the cover  
Hoped that they might read the book  
Took on that identity like it was comin' from my heart  
And they made such a big deal of it:  
Starin' at the smallest part   
So I've been thinkin' about my situation  
Nothin' to intriguin', maybe time to change up  
Throw a curve ball, try a different route  
Work some new things in, work some old things out

            Spike stopped in front of 37 Albatross Street and scratched his head bewilderedly.  Before him stood a large, prestigious looking bank.  He ambled up the white marble stairs, stepping lightly.  Inside, the bank was bustling with activity – beepers going off, cell phones ringing.  Spike spotted an open teller and started over determinedly, callously shoving aside a suit who got in his way.

            "Uh, do you have an account for a Mr. Shota Schlage?" Spike asked the teller, feeling foolish.  The teller raised an eyebrow at him, fingers flying over his keyboard.

            "Yes, there is a Shota Schlage listed here.  He's currently renting a safety deposit box with us."  Spike's eyes widened hopefully.  

            "Oh really?"

            "Yes.  And he hasn't made a payment on it in eight months!" the teller snapped, eying Spike disdainfully.

"Oh.  I don't suppose I could…see what's in it?" Spike asked.

"Certainly not.  Unless you were an approved individual, such as Mr. Schlage's lawyer."

            "Oh, I am," Spike said quickly.  "I'm Sch – Mr. Schlage's lawyer."  The teller gazed at him doubtfully.

            "And what did you say your name was sir?"  Spike paused, thinking rapidly.

            "Uh – "

            "Thomas!  Get yer ass over here!" bellowed a large, rotund man puffing on a cigar.  He waited by his office door impatiently.  The teller – Thomas – jumped nervously.

            "Excuse me sir," he flung at Spike, hurrying away.  Spike waited until they were both out of sight before leaning over the counter and tilting the monitor towards him. 

            "Come on, come on," he murmured, scanning the screen.  "Aha!  Lawyer, Fritz Anderson."  Spike pushed the monitor back in place and stepped away, just as Thomas came huffing back.

            "Sorry about that sir.  You were about to tell me your name?"

            "Fritz Anderson," Spike responded smugly, inclining his head genially.  Thomas stared.

            "Yeah…could I see some I.D., Mr. Anderson?"  Spike gave him a long, hard stare.  "Ah, very good Mr. Anderson.  But I'm afraid I can't let you in to see Mr. Schlage's safety deposit box until he catches up on his payments.  Bank policy."  Spike sighed.

            "Alright, how much does he owe?"

            "500,000 woolongs."

            "What?!"  Thomas shrugged, looking rather pleased.  Spike glared at him, eyes narrowed.  When he was snooping on the computer, he clearly remembered seeing the amount due for the safety deposit box.  It read 5,000 woolongs, not 500,000.  However, he couldn't reveal that without admitting he'd been looking at the computer screen, and thus probably blowing his cover as Schlage's lawyer.  Or at the very least, arousing suspicion.  "Just what in the hell is going on here?" Spike muttered under his breath.  Suddenly a familiar noise caught Spike's attention.  It was coming from the small television in the bank lounge.

            "Boy howdy, folks, have we got a bounty for y'all!"  Spike started.

            "Hey!  I thought they canceled Big Shot."

            "They did," the teller responded interestedly.  "But they brought it back a few days ago, due to popular demand.  I hear the girl dumped her agent and married her co-worker."

            "Armand Salamando…wanted for larceny, grand theft auto, and murder!"

            "Oh no!"

            "But he's worth a whopping…"

            "500,000 woolongs!" the girl squealed, wriggling and clapping her hands excitedly.  Then she stopped suddenly and glared at her co-worker.  "Huh?  Only a measly 500,000?"  He shrugged.

            "That's right Judy.  Hey, it's a slow week.  But we _can _give all you bounty hunters a good lead.  Armand's headed down Albatross Street on Mars at this very moment!  But you'd better hurry up…  The police are hot on his trail!"  Everyone in the bank froze at the sound of screeching tires, followed by police sirens.  

            "This must be my lucky day after all!" Spike said with a grin, sprinting for the door.

Action scene next chapter!  Yay!  And more Faye!  Double yay!  Uh,  the song is "Work Some Old Things Out" and I think it's by New Clothes?  I'm not sure tho…  I just liked the lyrics b/c I think Faye developed her whole bad-ass persona to survive, and now she's going to try to change some things about herself…  REVIEW!


	7. Sweet Little Cat

Sometimes I step into timeless zone
    
    And I lose my way
    
    I don't know where I am
    
    Sometimes I feel like I'm in the Milky Way
    
    And I lose myself
    
    I don't know who I am
    
    I discover whiskers of a cat in a timeless zone
    
    And I put them on my face
    
    In a moment I become a sweet little cat
    
    And I dance on a flying saucer
    
    I am a cat
    
    I am a cat
    
    I am a cat
    
    I discover ears of a cat in the Milky Way
    
    And I put them on my head
    
    In a moment I become a sweet little cat
    
    And I dance on a flying saucer

Faye strolled down the sidewalk, licking her strawberry ice cream cone leisurely.  She felt like a new woman.  Those hateful clothes were in a dumpster in the back of the shop were she'd bought her new outfit – an ankle-length, cotton green skirt and a cream colored blouse.  She'd also bought a pair of brown sandals, with straps that went across the toes and around the ankles.  It was simple yet elegant ensemble that flattered her slim, busty figure.  The skirt hugged her hips becomingly and tapered out.  The blouse was unbuttoned a few inches below her breastbone, revealing very minimal cleavage.  It clung to her breasts and flat stomach, twisting gracefully with her every movement.  The sleeves were loose and made of a finer, lighter material, almost transparent.  Faye hoped they adequately covered her bruises.  When she'd first entered the shop in her skimpy outfit, the lady behind the counter had 'tsked' and looked at Faye sympathetically.  It made her cheeks burn just remembering it.

            Faye finished the last bite of her ice cream cone, just as she felt a sharp pinch from behind.  She whirled around, glowering, and came face to face with a happily grinning old geezer.  Faye relaxed and flashed him a dazzling smile.  The old man almost fainted.  There was something else – she wasn't attracting as much attention from the unsavory types.  Not that she enjoyed being hit on by old men, but she considered it a step up from greasy, perverted teenagers with cheesy pick up lines.  And the geezer wasn't the only man to notice her since her change of attire.  She'd caught other men staring and smiling, the type of men who might take her out to dinner a couple of times before inviting her back to their apartment to fuck.  

            Faye hummed to herself softly, swinging her shopping bag as carelessly as a child.  The shopping bag contained clothes more akin to Faye's usual style, including skin-tight, black leather pants that sat low on her hips, an equally skin-tight dark red, midriff tank top, and dainty black boots.  Faye told herself that they were 'bounty hunting' clothes.  No matter how much she liked her current outfit, she had to admit it'd be pretty difficult to chase down a bounty in a skirt and sandals.  She was just about to cross the street when a car ripped around the corner in front of her, tires skidding.

            "Hey, watch it!" Faye shouted angrily, leaping back.  Suddenly an explosion rocked the street and Faye had to grab onto a nearby lamppost to steady herself, shielding her face from the flying debris that sprayed up.  "Son of a bitch!"  There was no mistaking the sleek red craft hovering over the street just above her.  

The speeding car slammed on its brakes and swerved, but couldn't avoid the smoking hole created by the Swordfish II's blasters.  Faye lifted her head just in time to see a man pull himself out of the hole and stagger to the side unsteadily.  Five police cars came to a screeching halt behind him, policemen jumping out of their cars and drawing their weapons.  The man seemed to collect himself and drew his own gun, firing a few shots while running in the opposite direction.  Spike landed the Swordfish II directly in his path, leaping out of the craft before it had completely settled on the ground.  The man looked around him wildly, then ran directly at Faye.  

            He had her in a tight grasp, arm around her waist and gun pointing at her head before she could do more than mutter, "Oh shit."

            "I kill her!" the man shouted desperately in a thick Italian accent.  "Don't shot or I kill her!"  The policemen stood their ground, but Spike approached slowly, gun raised.

            "She's got nothing to do with this Armand," Spike said soothingly.  "Just let her go and - Faye?" he squawked, lowering his gun.  Faye rolled her eyes expressively.

            "Well it's obvious you're not going to be very helpful!" she snapped.  Spike just stared at her.  Faye lifted her foot and stomped heavily on Armand's toe, grinding her heel down viciously.  Armand yelped in surprise and let go of her.  She whirled around and grabbed his wrist, twisting it painfully so that he dropped his gun.  She caught it before it hit the ground, then gripped his chin tightly and pulled down so that she could shove the gun into his mouth.  He goggled at her.

            "Now, be a good boy and go with the police quietly," Faye said, smiling sweetly.

Although he was still trying to comprehend that that was Faye, dressed in those utterly un-Faye-like clothes, Spike vaguely realized that she was about to claim the bounty money he desperately needed.  Something drastic must be done.  

            "Faye, behind you!" he hollered.

            "Huh?" Faye looked at him over her shoulder, puzzled.  Armand took advantage of the situation beautifully.  He delivered a heavy blow, throwing her backwards and into a brick wall.  She slumped to the ground with a slight sigh.  

Spike winced when her head contacted with the brick, but focused his attention on Armand.  He was weaponless and Spike needed to work off some frustration.  Spike stepped forward, positioning himself in a fighting stance and smiling at Armand irritatingly.  Armand roared and charged at him, fists flailing.  Spike shook his head pityingly and side stepped the brute with ease, bringing his leg up to knee him in the stomach.  Armand doubled over, gasping for breath, and Spike struck him on the back in one sharp, swift motion.  Armand hit the pavement and lay still.  Spike waited for the police to rush over, and demanded his bounty card before going over to check on Faye.

She was still unconscious, lying on her side, skirt hiked up over her knees.  Spike knelt beside her and turned her over on her back carefully, brushing silky strands of hair from her face with long, delicate fingers.  He noted interestedly that her hair was longer than it seemed with that yellow headband, and that the absence of her widows' peak gave her face a softer, less bony look.  Her lip had split and was bleeding a little, and by tomorrow she'd have a sizable bruise on her right cheek. _To match to one I gave her, _Spike thought guiltily, poking that bruise gently.  Faye groaned and stirred.  Spike sat back on his haunches and gazed around him, but could not locate the Red Tail.  

He lifted her weight easily, holding her legs beneath the knees and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  Her head rested on his shoulder peacefully.  Spike was about to turn when he caught sight of a shopping bag.  After glancing around and noticing the general lack of people, he decided that it must be Faye's.  He slid both Faye and her shopping bag into the cockpit of his ship and climbed in after them.  

"Well this is rather crowded," he remarked, tossing the bag in the back and squirming to find a position in which he could operate the Swordfish.

They arrived at the bank a few moments later, Spike landing obnoxiously in the middle of the street.  He stopped at the appropriate machine first, to collect his bounty money, then entered the bank.  The teller who'd attended him previously was still there, just finishing with another customer.  Spike swaggered up and slapped the 500,000 woolong on the counter.

"There.  Now take me to Schlage's safety deposit box."

"Er, of course, of course…  I just need to speak with my boss first and – " Spike jerked Thomas up by his jacket.

"No," he growled.  Spike had a strong suspicion that 'the boss' would just give Thomas another excuse to keep him from that safety deposit box. 

"Oh," Thomas squeaked.  "I-I need your key then, sir."

"Key?"  

            "Yes, the key to Mr. Schlage's safety deposit box.  I must have the key to open it."  Spike released Thomas with a disgusted snort.  Now he'd probably have to go all the way back to Ganymeade and search Schlage's place.  Spike snarled wordlessly and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes.  Once he had the carton out, he stared at it in confusion.  It wasn't his usual brand…

            "Of course!" he exclaimed, opening it hastily.  Inside, wrapped in several tissues, lay a simple brass key.  Spike presented it to Thomas triumphantly.

            "Very good, sir," Thomas groaned.

            Spike followed Thomas closely, shoving him from behind each time he began to drag his feet.  When they reached the vault, Thomas pulled out a ring of keys and shifted through them in a painstakingly slow manner.  Spike considered pulling out his gun, but then remembered that banks and guns generally don't mix well.  Finally Thomas found the right key and unlocked the vault, the heavy door creaking loudly as he pulled it open.  

            "Now let's see…  What was that safety deposit box number?" Thomas said aloud, holding up Schlage's brass key and studying it closely.

            "Gimme that!" Spike snapped, snatching the key from him.

            "Hey!  You can't do that!" Thomas protested.  Spike ignored him, scanning the small key for the number.  He found it, very worn and faded, stamped near the top of the key: 227.  Spike transferred his gaze to the rows of boxes in front of him, locating 227 a few rows to his left.  

            "I'll be right back," Thomas said in a rush, slipping away before Spike could protest.  Spike considered going after him, but curiosity drew his attention back to box 227.  He unlocked it and pulled the door open, peering inside.

            "Hmmm…"

Whoa, a rather long chapter, neh?  Jeez, I spoil you guys…  But I make up for it by leaving you w/cliffhangers.  Song: "I Am A Cat," lyrics by Shonen Knife.  Isn't that a kewl name?  Shonen Knife…hooha!  I love cats…  Annnnnyways, REVIEW!  Or I'll never tell you what Spike found in the safety deposit box.  HA!


	8. Empty of Tenderness

Okay Faye's still unconscious in the Swordfish II, and this is her dream/flashback sequence…

  "David Yung?"  A girl with long, dark brown hair and glasses sat down next to Faye and looked at her incredulously.

            "Well, yeah," Faye said, blushing faintly and twisting a strand of hair around one finger.

"But he's so…" the girl, Diane, floundered for the right words.  "He's so quiet!  And he's always got his nose stuck in a book.  He's a bit of a nerd, if you ask me."

"Well I didn't!" Faye retorted indignantly.

"Yeah, Diane," teased a short, heart-faced girl sitting across from them.  "Maybe he just likes to study…  Maybe _he _actually wants to _pass_ some of hisclasses!"

            "Hey, you might want to try that sometime Diane!" laughed Michelle, a tall, long-legged girl sitting on the opposite side of Faye.  Diane grinned and stuck out her tongue.

            "Alright, alright, sheesh!  Is everyone here in love with David?"

            "He _has_ gotten a little taller since last year," the heart-faced girl, Beth, commented, glancing at his lone figure across the lunchroom.  "And more muscular!" she giggled.

            "He has that dark, mysterious quality about him," Michelle mused.

"Yeah, I guess I can see that," Diane grumbled grudgingly.  "So he's tall and muscular, dark and mysterious, and intelligent.  God Faye, you'd better make your move before the rest of the school discovers Mr. Perfect over there."  Faye blushed and ducked her head while the others giggled.  "But seriously Faye," Diane continued.  "There are plenty of boys – dare I say it – _at least _as cute as David, who are _dying _to go out with you.  What makes him so special?"  Beth, Michelle, and Diane waited curiously for Faye's response.

"I suppose," she began slowly, tugging on her hair, "it's the way he looks at me."  Faye glanced up quickly, then back down.  "I mean he _stares _at me, so intensely, like he's trying to burn a hole through me to see what's underneath…to see what's inside.  And when I look back…"  Faye trailed off and her four friends leaned in more closely.  "When I look back…his eyes…"

"His eyes?" Beth prompted breathlessly.

            "I can't explain it," Faye said softly.  "It's as if I can see all of his thoughts and feelings and dreams, all swirling around.  I feel as though, behind that quiet mask, there's chaos and turmoil.  It draws me to him."  Michelle, Beth, and Diane sighed collectively.

            "You're so lucky, Faye," Michelle said enviously.  Faye smiled and looked away.

            "Hey, where'd he go?" Diane asked suddenly.  "He's gone!"  Faye followed her friend's gaze, acknowledging with considerable surprise that David had indeed disappeared.  Beth, Diane, and Michelle jumped up and began scanning the noisy lunchroom.

            "That's weird!" Beth commented.  "He was there just a minute ago.  I – "

            "Hi Faye."  All three friends screamed as Faye whirled around.  David, who had materialized behind her, took a step backwards and made as if to run.  

            "David, wait!" Faye said quickly.  He paused, looking bewildered.  "My friends are, uh, kind of jumpy today."  David nodded, looking at them tentatively as the three girls nodded vigorously and sat back down.

            "Oh.  I was just wondering if I could talk to you for a moment, Faye."  Faye felt her heart flutter.  

            "Sure, David," she said shyly, standing up.  He led her through the crowded lunchroom and out to the courtyard.  The courtyard was fairly empty, although it was a beautiful day.  Faye marveled as a warm breeze collected loose cherry blossoms, sweeping them up into a delicate dance.  David paused under the shade of a cherry blossom tree, his hand resting lightly on the rough bark.  He gazed at Faye steadily, pale pink blossoms raining down on them.  Faye waited, unconsciously holding her breath.

            "Faye," he began softly.  "I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel…close to you.  I like being around you, Faye.  Do you feel the same way?"  Faye stared at him in amazement.  For all his quietness, he wasn't in the least bit shy.  He was so honest with his feelings, and didn't seem at all embarrassed.  She felt that even if she were to say no, he'd simply nod his head and accept her answer with matter-of-fact dignity.

            "Yes."  It took Faye a moment to realize that the soft, breathless response was her own.  David smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made her chest ache.  She couldn't be sure who took the first step, but suddenly they were inches apart, David running his fingers through her hair, Faye leaning against him. He traced her jawbone with one finger, tilting her head upwards.  Still smiling, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers softly.  Faye felt herself die a thousand times.

Empty of tenderness  
And empty of joy,  
Faraway from here,  
Faraway from you.

Nothing of more sadness  
Than my sighs,  
When the day comes  
That I must leave.

Song of innocence,  
You live always in my heart.  
You, the most sweet!  
You, the most tender!

It's the song  
That always says:  
In your spirit   
I will live forever.   
  


It's the song  
That always says:  
In your spirit   
I will live forever.

            Spike shoved the still unconscious Faye aside and crawled into the cockpit, cheerfully ignoring the honks and curses of the cars around him.  He flew off, traveling only a small distance before landing on the roof of a deserted warehouse.  Beside him, Faye murmured in her sleep.  Spike looked at her thoughtfully, then leaned over.  

            "Faye," he said, patting her cheek gently.  "Hey, Faye, wake up."  Faye stirred slightly, eyelashes fluttering.  She lifted her hand heavily and stroked Spike's cheek.  He froze, staring at her in shock.

            "Faye?"

            "David…" she mumbled, letting her hand drop.  Spike waited a moment, listening intently, but she didn't say anything more.

            "Faye," he said at last, more loudly.  Finally, Faye groaned and opened her eyes.  Emerald green stared into mismatched garnet.

"Spike?" she said in confusion, attempting to sit up.  "What happened?  Where are we?"

"We're in the cockpit of my ship," Spike answered, choosing to ignore the first question.

"Why?  What happened?"  _No way you're getting out of this one, Spike Spiegel._

"Uh, well, there was this bounty," he began nervously, watching Faye closely.  "And he grabbed you, and, uh…"  Spike gulped as he saw anger begin to replace confusion in those emerald orbs.

            "What the _fuck _did you do?" she raged.  "That bounty was _mine_!"

            "Hey, I saw him first!" Spike protested, fighting off another guilt attack.

            "Yeah, well, you had your chance and you screwed it up."

            "Everything was fine until you got in the way!"

            "Got in the way?  _Got in the way!_" Faye said furiously.  "Listen, you bastard, I was minding my own business when _you _show up, guns blazing, almost blowing me up with that piece of crap you call a ship – "

            "Don't talk about my ship like that," he interrupted, glowering dangerously.             

" – and when _I _finally get everything under control, you _purposefully _distract me!"

"Well, you shouldn't allow yourself to be distracted," Spike said uncomfortably.  Faye snorted, but sensed she'd won that round and was able to move on to her next grievance.  

"Jeez, Spike, my head really hurts!" she said plaintively, touching the bump gingerly.

"It can't be that bad," Spike retorted, trying avoid the memory of Faye colliding head first into that wall.  Faye just sniffed.  "Here, let me see," he snapped, leaning forward.

"No!  Ow, ow, it hurts!" Faye howled.

"I haven't even touched it yet!" Spike told her, exasperated.  "Just…hold still!"  He placed both hands on either side of her head, tilting it downwards so he could see the bump.  

"Don't, Spike!" Faye grabbed his wrists as he reached out to touch the bump.

"Relax, Faye," he muttered, probing the swollen area with skilled, gentle fingers.  Faye braced herself for sharp stabs of pain, but only felt a slight tickling sensation.  "You'll be alright," Spike said, resting his hands on his lap.  "But you should ice it when we get back to the Bebop."  Faye nodded, feeling foolish, then noticed she still held Spike's wrists loosely.  She snatched her hands away nervously and Spike raised an eyebrow.  Suddenly, Faye found the Swordfish II unbearably suffocating.

"How much was the bounty on that guy anyway?" Faye muttered, fighting to keep her cheeks from burning.

"Hmm?  Just 100,000."

"Is that all?" Faye asked, disappointed.  "Oh, well, it's better than nothing.  I deserve at least half, wouldn't you agree?  Where's my fifty?"

"Spent it," Spike said shortly.

            "What?!  Yeah right…  You expect me to believe that?" Faye demanded, scowling.  Spike reached into his inside jacket pocket and produced a small disc.  "Please don't tell me you spent 100,000 woolongs on a CD," Faye growled.  Spike grinned.

            "Nope.  A safety deposit box fine."

            "You don't have a safety deposit box."

            "How would you know?  But you're right.  This particular item belongs to a Mr. Shota Schlage."

            "Who's Shota Schlage?"

            "He _was _a spy."

            "So what's on the disc?" Faye asked interestedly.

            "I'm about to find out," Spike responded, popping the disc into his cockpit computer.  The screen was fuzzy for a few moments, then abruptly focused.  The picture revealed a bare, spacious room with warped, dusty floorboards and stained glass windows.  Faye sat in one corner, hands cuffed over her head.  Vicious stood opposite of her.

            "Comfortable, Miss Valentine?"  That dry, raspy voice finally triggered the present Faye into action.  She jerked forward, hands frantically reaching for the disc player.  In such a cramped space, it was easy for Spike to intercept her, seizing her wrists and holding her back.

            "I'd be more comfortable if you'd undo these handcuffs."  Hearing her own voice emitting from the speakers only made Faye redouble her efforts.  Spike grunted as she lashed out, kicking, clawing, twisting.  He finally ended the struggle by twisting one arm painfully behind her back and wrapping his free arm around her waist.  She pulled away from him a few times before recognizing the helplessness of her position.  Panting, she leaned against him heavily and rested her head on his shoulder.  The figures on the screen sat in silence.

            "Spike," Faye cried in frustration.  "Why do this?  What happened then…it's none of your damn business!"

            "I think it is," he said harshly, his breath stirring her hair.  "I think it has something to do with why you killed Vicious.  And where Vicious is concerned, it's always my business."

**_Puh-lease tell me there are some Vicious fans still following this fic!  Next chappie, find out what happened b/twn my man Vicious and Faye….._**

"Chansons D'Enfance," ("Song of Innocence" – originally in French - I pasted it on in its translated version).  Music by Andrew Lloyd Weber, lyrics by Don Black & Charles Hart  


	9. Speaking in Killing Words

**_Alrighty then…  Read on, peeps!  _**

It comes from the depths

Of a place unknown to the  
Keeper of dreams  
If it could then it would steal  
The sun and the moon from the sky  
Beware  
  
Human at sight, monster at heart  
Don't let it inside it could  
Tear you right apart  
  
No guilt, it feeds in plain sight  
Spirit crusher  
Stay strong and hold on tight  
Spirit crusher  
  
Speaking in killing words  
  


The vicious kind that crush and kill  
No mercy, its pleasure to taste  
The blood that it bled  
  
When it's time to feed to fulfill  
The need to consume a breath  
Some will rise standing tall  
Breathing out all the breath from  
The voice of a soul.
    
    ***

"How well do you know Spike Spiegel, Miss Valentine?"  The abrupt question made Faye jerk her head up and stare at Vicious.

            "Not very well…just a few months," she muttered.

            "And what is your impression of him?"  Faye paused, then shrugged.

            "He's alright, I guess.  Obnoxious, annoying…but alright."  Vicious chuckled humorlessly.

            "Shall I tell you a story, Miss Valentine?  Featuring our very own Spike Spiegel?"  Faye shrugged again, but looked curious.  "He and I were partners for quite some time.  I admired and respected him, a compliment I don't pay to many.  But then, he is rather remarkable, is he not?"  Faye blinked.  "Have you ever seen him in action, Miss Valentine?  I suppose you have, hunting down bounty heads…but I imagine it is not quite the same."

            "The same as what?" Faye asked warily.

            "Fighting for the purpose of killing," Vicious said with relish.  "He was unstoppable, insatiable.  His lust for bringing death matched even my own."  Faye shook her head, as much to clear it as to contradict his words.

            "No, Spike is not like you," she murmured, half to herself.  Vicious looked at her sharply, then walked over to her languidly. 

            "You think not?" he said softly, dangerously.  Faye edged away from him, her fear apparent.  He leaned over her, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.  "We were like brothers, Miss Valentine…closer, even.  Then, can you guess what happened?"  Faye fought to keep from shivering as his finger traced a path down her cheek.  "A woman."  He released his breath in a soft hiss.  Faye did shiver then, uncontrollably.  "Julia is one of the most incredible women I've ever met.  There's a certain tranquility about her that radiates onto everyone she touches.  With her, each moment is a dream.  And she was mine.  But since the moment he met her, Spike coveted Julia, and she soon returned his affection.  Behind my back, they plotted to leave the syndicate.  I, of course, discovered their treachery."  His voice changed and became more earnest, more insistent.

            "You must understand Faye, I was never in love with Julia.  She was a glimpse into my past, a mere taste of another – " Vicious' voice slipped and he broke off mid-sentence.  His hand had come to rest at the base of Faye's throat, and his fingers gently curved around her slim neck.  "Spike's was the most bitter betrayal.  _He _was the one whom I'd placed my trust in, and _he _is the one who must pay."  Vicious chuckled dryly.  "And what better way to punish him, then by keeping him from his precious Julia?  

"I pretended to be insanely jealous of their love, and promised Julia I'd spare her if she killed Spike.  If not, both she and Spike would die at my hand.  She acted so predictably, running off without a word to Spike.  She disappeared without a trace, and Spike grew to hate me.  But my sweetest revenge was the agonizing doubt he was left with - wondering if she'd left due to her fear of me, or if she'd never truly loved him."

            "Why are you telling me this?" Faye whispered, terrified.  Vicious studied her silently.

            "Why indeed," he murmured.  He gazed at her a moment longer, then straightened, pulling a key out of his pocket.  "Spike will be here soon," he said, unlocking her handcuffs.  She lowered her hands to her lap, rubbing her wrists and looking up at him fearfully.  "Miss Valentine?" Vicious inquired, offering his hand.  Faye hesitated, then slid her hand into his and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

            They stood inches apart, Vicious holding her eyes with an intense stare.  His hands ran up and down her arms lightly, caressing her skin.  Suddenly he gripped her shoulders and crushed her to his chest roughly, kissing her savagely.  Her neck arched and bent back painfully, and one of his arms lowered and wrapped around her waist when she attempted to pull away.  His other arm cradled the back of her head, gathering her hair in a tight fist and tugging sharply.  

            "Mmph!"  A muffled cry escaped her when Vicious bit her lower lip, his tongue darting out to taste her tangy blood.  An eternity passed in a split second before he released her.  She staggered back a step, touching her lip with a trembling hand and breathing raggedly.

            "I promised myself I wouldn't touch you," he said quietly.  "Not until you regained your memories."  He looked as though he wanted to say more, but a knock on the door interrupted him.

            "Sir, Spike Spiegel has arrived," called an anonymous voice on the other side of the heavy wooden door.  Vicious turned his attention back to Faye, smiling faintly.  He approached her slowly, pulling a crisp white handkerchief out of his pocket.  Faye backed up reluctantly, pride unwilling to admit her fear of this dangerous man.  He made no move to stop her, and she soon felt the rough wall pressed into her back.  Vicious looked down at her with an unreadable expression and gently gripped her chin with pale fingers.  He tilted her head up slightly and dabbed her bleeding lip with his handkerchief until the blood smeared with her lipstick.  He stared at her a moment longer, then turned on his heel and left the room with quick, sharp steps.  The picture cut off just as Faye began to slide to the floor, heaving a bewildered sigh.

            Spike sat in stunned silence, a limp Faye hanging in his arms, her head bowed and her hair draped around her face like a curtain.  He knew he could let her go – she wasn't about to run off anywhere.  But the more he tried to release her, the more he wanted to tighten his grip.  Tighten his hands around her until every last breath had been squeezed out of her.

            "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" he asked lowly.  Faye's head raised a fraction of an inch.  "You knew, you knew everything!  And you claimed you knew nothing of my past!"

            "No!" Faye cried, jerking upright, eyes blazing with tears.  "I said that you never _told _me of your past."

            "But you knew about Julia, the situation _he_ put her in," Spike insisted furiously.  "Why didn't you tell me?" 

            "And what would you have done?" Faye demanded.  "Gone off looking for her?  Or worse, gone off to confront _him_?  Then everything she sacrificed for you would have been in vain!"  Her voice broke and a tear slid down her cheek.  She turned her head to the side and composed herself.  "And anyway she could've contacted you sooner.  What was it – fucking three years?  She could've sent some sort of message…but she didn't.  And when was it that she finally did show up?  When Vicious gained control of the Red Dragon Syndicate.  When the man, who she believed truly hated her, gained an enormous amount of power.  Julia only showed up when she needed you, when she thought she could _use _you to protect her.  But she was mistaken, wasn't she Spike?  And her mistake proved fatal."  Faye's voice was harsh and bitter, her words sharp and biting.  She felt her arm begin to burn and ache in protest as Spike's grip on her wrist intensified.  His fingers dug into her ribs painfully.  But Faye didn't cry out.  She knew it was sick, but she wanted the pain, welcomed it.  She wanted him to hit her, beat her until all she could feel was mind-numbing pain.  Any amount of physical pain was better then the blackness eating away at her from the inside.  It clawed at her heart and twisted her lungs until she could barely breathe.  It made her say horrible, nasty things to people she cared about.  It made her want to die.   

            But Spike released her and opened the cockpit, muttering, "Consider this an apology for last time."  Faye whirled around, hands clenched.

            "Oh, that's wonderful!" she spat sarcastically.  "Good, kind, _generous_ Spike!  How incredibly _noble _of you to refrain from beating the disrespectful little woman!" Spike stared at her for a long time and Faye waited expectantly for him to lash out in fury.  

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I am…I'm sorry, Faye.  I was so angry that night.  I felt like you cheated me out of my destiny."

"If it was your destiny to face Vicious and to die, then nothing I did could have changed that," Faye said softly.

            "Maybe," Spike said slowly, looking down at his hands.  "Maybe.  But then…  What am I suppose to do now?"  He looked back up at Faye pleadingly, like a lost child.  She'd never seen him look so uncertain.

            "I don't know."  _Just live, goddammit!_  Spike nodded and seemed to get a hold of himself, flipping various switches on the dashboard of the Swordfish II.

            "I'll meet you back at the Bebop, okay?"  

            "Sure," Faye responded, hopping out of the cockpit.  Spike gave her a half smile and a mocking salute before lifting off and shooting up into the sky.  Faye watched him go, shielding her eyes from the dying rays of the setting sun, her skirt whipping around her legs. 

Sooo, whaddya think?  I hope the Vicious/Faye scene wasn't anti-climatic…I'm gonna string you guys on a little further.  

Song titled: "Spirit Crusher," lyrics by Chuck Schuldiner (Death). 


	10. Looking At A Place That's Gone

Yay!  Thanx for the great reviews guys…I was afraid there was going to be some riots….

**_Hey!  Some Jetty and Eddy in this chapter!_**

Faye kicked the covers off her bed with a frustrated groan and wondered how it could be so damn hot out in the middle of space.  She sat up, stifling a yawn and brushing her hair out of her face.  Glancing around blurrily, Faye caught sight of her digital clock.  2:32 A.M.  Faye fell backwards and squeezed her eyes shut, willing sleep to overtake her.  She opened one eye.  2:32 A.M.  

            "Argh!" Faye complained, jumping out of bed.  She paced the small bit of floor space in her room, the cold metal beneath her feet calming her.  After a few minutes of pacing, she changed direction and padded over to her closet, removing a small T.V. and beta player.  She set it on her bed gently and sat cross-legged in front of the screen.  Faye hit play and rested her head in one hand as a slim, black-haired girl with bright green eyes appeared on the screen.  She blushed and giggled, surrounded by a large group of friends.  Her voice was soft and hesitant, light and clear as a bird's as she spoke directly into the camera.  She smiled cheerfully, the light haloing her slight figure as she waved her pomp-pomps expertly.  Faye reached out and stroked the screen with one finger.

            "I know you," she murmured softly.  "I know all your dreams and desires, I know how you think and I know your opinions.  I know your favorite color, favorite food, and favorite T.V. show.  I know that you were me.  I _know _it, but I don't _feel _it."  Faye slammed a fist down on her bed.  "I remember, but it doesn't seem real…it's like a dream.

            "It will come to you in time, Faye."  Faye gasped and twisted around.

            "Jet!  What the hell are you doing – "

            "Your door was open," he said mildly, stepping into her room.  

            "Oh, and I suppose you think that gives you the right to eavesdrop on me," she said sarcastically, hoping the darkness hid the redness of her cheeks.  

            "Listen, Faye," Jet said seriously, "I know you've been dreaming about your past.  I've walked by your room at night and heard you mumbling in your sleep – recalling conversations with friends and family, I suppose."  Faye nodded reluctantly.

            "Yes, I have been dreaming…It's like I completed the border of a puzzle and now I'm filling it in.  I'm remembering the details."

            "So it's coming," Jet said gently.  "One day all the spaces will be filled and your memory will be complete."

            "A fat lot of good that will do me," Faye said bitterly.  Jet cleared his throat uncomfortably.

            "Look…uh, I know Spike and I never made you feel all that welcome here on the Bebop, but you are…welcome here, that is," he stuttered.  Faye lifted one eyebrow.  "Aw, hell," he said, rubbing his neck.  "My excuse is that I'm a crotchety old man who worries too much, and I didn't want one more person to lose sleep over."

            "And what's Spike's excuse?" Faye asked softly.

            "He cares about you," Jet said bluntly.  "He likes to pretend that he's dead to the world and nothing affects him, but from day one, you've been able to get under his skin."  Faye turned around and perched on the edge of her bed.

            "He cares about me," she repeated dully, wrapping her arms around herself.  "I don't think so, Jet."  Jet snorted.

            "Fine.  Believe what you want to.  But Faye?"  She looked up at him and he gestured at her new green skirt and blouse, both of which hung in the closet.  "Your memories are coming back…you _are _that little girl, but everyone grows up.  Everyone changes.  Don't try to be someone you're not."  He walked out and closed the door quietly behind him.  Faye sat still for a long time, then sighed and moved the equipment on her bed back to the closet.  She crawled into bed and let sleep overcome her.

sitting in the rain alone  
looking at a place that's gone  
boarded up my memories   
but something's drawn me here again and  
i cannot leave the past alone  
hoped that i would never find   
all the shit i left behind  
now i find the child in me is going to remind me that i  
i can't forget my past for long

so take a look outside yourself   
and tell me what you see  
i can't believe   
that you won't see the change in me

give me strength to find the road that's lost in me  
give me time to heal and build myself a dream  
give me eyes to see the world surrounding me  
give me strength to be only me

i don't want to hear the things   
you say you know all you've redeemed  
'cause i can't change what's come before   
build myself some better dreams   
and cast off the fear that holds me here

so take a look outside yourself   
and tell me what you see  
i can't believe   
that you won't see the change in me

give me strength to find the road that's lost in me  
give me time to heal and build myself a dream  
give me eyes to see the world surrounding me  
give me strength to be only me 

Faye checked her watch and sighed in irritation, placing one hand on her hip.  Cherry blossoms clung to her off-white cashmere sweater and swirled around her slender legs and brown, knee-length skirt.  

            "He's late!" she said out loud, green eyes glinting dangerously.  "Again…"  Her anger dimmed and she became saddened, remembering when he would run to get to their meeting spot five minutes early.  Now it was like pulling teeth to get him just to notice her…  "Hi, remember me?" Faye muttered sarcastically.  "We've only been dating for five years, ever since junior high."  She sighed and tossed her shoulder-length hair, cut choppily to frame her delicate face.  David had always loved her hair, forever running his fingers through her sleek, dark strands, twisting and tugging gently.  Last week, on their anniversary, she had presented him with a lock of her hair, hoping to remind him of those romantic days.  But he had only stared at her, as if to ask, 'What am I supposed to do with this?' and apologized for forgetting her present.  Faye checked her watch again.  Half an hour late.  She threw up her hands and grabbed her books off the ground, stalking off in the direction of her house.

            "Faye!  Wait up!"  Faye's heart leapt as she recognized the voice, but she only faltered for a minute.  Then she raised her head a tad higher and continued to march in the opposite direction.  The sound of feet slapping on asphalt grew steadily louder, and before long a hand tugged on Faye's shoulder, turning her about face.  "Hey, didn't you hear me?" David panted, bent over slightly with his hands resting on his legs.  He flashed an apologetic grin at her.  "Sorry I'm late…  One of my after school meetings ran over."  Faye gave him a stony glare, lips pressed together tightly.  David's smile faded.  "Faye…I _am _sorry," he said softly.  "It's just…with applications and everything, I've been so busy…" he reached over and tugged on a strand of her hair playfully.  "Forgive me?"  Faye felt her resolve to be angry melt away.  She leaned against him and rested her cheek against the soft fabric of his sweater.  

            "Of course," she rolled her eyes.  "I let you get away with murder."  They turned together and began walking up the street.

            "Because of my dashing good looks?" David suggested.

            "No, because you make a good pack mule," Faye laughed, handing him her books to carry.  David tucked the books under his arm with a groan, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders.          

                 __

            Spike snuffed his cigarette out on the dashboard and laid it to rest with the countless other broken stubs.  This was the fourth time he'd watched the CD, hunched over the screen in Swordfish II.    

            "You must understand Faye, I was never in love with Julia."  Spike flinched and pulled another cigarette from his carton, hands shaking slightly.  _You fucking bastard.  It was all a **fucking **game to you.   _"She was a glimpse into my past, a mere taste of another – "  Spike's eyes narrowed.  _What the hell is he talking about there?  It's like he's saying it for Faye's benefit, like he's reassuring her…fuck if I know._  Spike tuned out as Vicious described how he'd tricked him and Julia.  It infuriated him and distracted him from listening for clues.  On the screen, Vicious unlocked Faye's handcuffs and helped her to her feet.  Spike ground his teeth, fingernails biting into his knee as he realized what was coming next.   

            "Ooooh!"  Ed's fluffy mane of red-orange hair filled Spike's vision as she pressed her face up to the screen.  "Why is the strange man kissing Faye-Faye?"  Spike yanked Ed out of the way and hit the pause button. 

            "Ed!  What are you doing up?  Don't you have a…bed time, or something?"  Ed laughed, using Spike's head as a footstep to climb onto the hood of the Swordfish.

            "Silly Spike-person!  Silly, silly, silly Spike-person," she chanted, doing a series of somersaults and cartwheels.

            "Yeah…  Hey, stop bouncing around like that, you're going to dent the hood," Spike mumbled around his cigarette, watching Ed warily.  "Ed, I'm kind of busy, so unless there was something you wanted to tell me…"

            "Something to tell Spike-person!" Ed affirmed, pausing mid-cartwheel and ending up in a handstand.  She bounded to her feet and stood up straight, assuming a mock serious expression.  "'Last week, a _mysterious _woman," Ed's voice rose and fell theatrically, "walked into the headquarters of the infamous Red Dragon Syndicate during broad daylight, sporting a pair of dark sunglasses and toting a machinegun."  Ed arranged her hands as though she were holding a gun and began to shoot randomly around the hanger, ending with a shot right between Spike's eyes.  She then pulled a folded piece of paper out from the waistband of her spandex shorts and shoved it in Spike's face.  Spike took it from her and opened it silently.  It appeared to be a news article.

You'se guys wanna find out what happened just before Faye shot Vicious?  How she got to the top floor?  Next chapter, babes….

"Give Me Strength" lyrics by Over The Rhine.


	11. Trying to be Ruthless

Your reviews make me so happy…*sigh contentedly* So Spikey boy is reading the news article given to him by Ed… 

**Mysterious Assassin Infiltrates Red Dragon HQ!**

"Last week, a mysterious woman walked into the headquarters of the infamous Red Dragon Syndicate during broad daylight, sporting a pair of dark sunglasses and toting a machinegun.  She made it to the elevator without having to fire a single shot.  

'We was just mindin' our own business an' didn't even notice her until she was halfway across the room,' comments one eyewitness.  'When we did notice her, we didn't dare make a move.  There was somethin' about the set of her face and the way she moved that let you know she'd of had your brains leakin' out your head if you so much as wiggled a pinky.'  This distressful damsel rode the elevator directly up to the top floor where Red Dragon guard Tony Mavrades (false name) was waiting.  

'I'd been edgy all day – had a bad feeling, ya know?  So when that elevator started moving up, I raised my gun and stood ready.  The doors had just opened a crack when the shooting began.  I dodged to the side, but she caught me in the right shoulder and leg, and I went down.  When she stepped out of the elevator, I tried to reach for my gun, but she got there first and kicked it away.  I thought for sure she was going to finish me off, but she just looked down at me with those big green eyes…  I don't think she was an assassin.  I think she was there to settle a score.'  The vexing vixen proceeded down the hallway, picking off three more R.D. agents before reaching Felix Humphrey (false name).

'I'd heard the shootin' and hid myself from view so's I could take her out as she rounded the corner.  But as I listened for her footsteps to come closer, she stopped and fired off a round from a distance – right at the corner I was hidin' behind, as if she could see me 'round the bend!  'Course, the angle was all wrong and she couldn't get me good, but one of those bullets bounced off the wall and nicked me in the arm.  I threw caution to the wind and charged out, shootin' like a man possessed and prayin' one of those bullets would hit home.  However, the dame dove to the floor and got off two good shoots – one hit my knee, the other ripped into my side.  

'My vision was blurry and I was fast losin' consciousness, but I did note that the dame was carryin' a compact, and perceived that she'd probably used a mirror to see around the corner.  Pretty clever, huh?  She passed by me and I got a good look at her face…she was one good lookin' dame but she was sure pissed off.  Normally I'd be scared shitless, but I had a strange feelin' her rage wasn't directed at me.'  What happened next, no one can be certain.  Reinforcements from the bottom floor finally arrived, only to find a large hole in the roof, and their not-so-beloved leader dead.

'Confidentially, I think she did us a favor,' says one former R.D. agent.  'Vicious was out of control.  He was losing it and he was going to take all of us down with him.'  So, let us tip our hats to this mysterious lady, whomever she may be, for making our galaxy just a little bit safer.

The means are right for taking, fade to gray  
Trying to be ruthless, in the face of beauty  
In this matrix, it's plain to see  
It's either you or me.  
  
Bruise,  
pristine,  
serene,  
we were born to lose.  
  
Cast a line with a velvet glove  
Reading like an open book, in the hands of love  
In this matrix, it's plain to see  
It's either you or me.  
  
Bruise,  
pristine,  
serene,  
we were born to lose.

Spike snorted derisively and crumpled the paper, tossing it in the back of the cockpit.  _What does Ed know about all this? _he wondered.  "Why'd you print that out, Ed?"  Spike asked the bushy-haired computer whiz kid, who had moved to the floor and was sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed.  "Ed?"  She opened one eye.

"Spike-person must hush now as Edward is trying to levitate."  She closed her eye and began to emit strange noises.  "Aaaooooweeeuuu…"  Spike shook his head and sighed, lifting his shoulders in a defeated shrug.  He turned his attention back to the screen and hit the play button.  Vicious released Faye from his grasp and she backed away, panting and bewildered.

"I promised myself I wouldn't touch you.  Not until you regained your memories."  Spike scratched his head.  _'…until you regained your memories?'  What the hell…  How could Vicious know about Faye's amnesia?  And what does Faye getting back her memories have to do with him?  Not a damn thing.  Unless…_Spike felt his heart beat faster.  _Fuck, no, it's impossible!  But…what if Vicious was **part** of Faye's past? What if he wanted her to remember her past, so that she would remember **him**?   _He was close, he could feel it, but the idea of Vicious sharing a history with Faye was ridiculous.  That would mean that Vicious, like Faye, had been cryogenically frozen.   How could it be possible?  "Ed!" he barked.  Ed bounded to her feet and puffed out her chest, raising a hand to her forehead like a soldier standing at attention.  "Is there any way you can hack into Faye's ship's computer and find out where she's been in the last few months?"  Ed pondered this a moment.

"Ahh-firmative!" she responded at length.  Spike climbed out of the Swordfish cockpit and Ed scampered off.  She returned a few minutes later, Tomato resting on her head and Ein trotting behind her, and joined Spike at Faye's Redtail.  Ed opened the hatch door and scrambled into the cockpit, plugging Tomato into an outlet.  Ein leapt in after her, tail wagging as he watched Ed's fingers fly over the keyboard furiously.  The Redtail soon purred into life, various lights flickering.  Ed finished typing and lifted one finger triumphantly, preparing to strike the final key.  Ein lifted a paw.  "Ein!" Ed said warningly.  Ein dropped his paw and whimpered.  Ed struck the correct key and grinned as her screen flooded with information.  "Does Spike-person want specific dates on Faye-Faye's whereabouts?"  Spike sucked on his cigarette thoughtfully.

"Fuck…  I don't know when she got her memories back…" he muttered, slumping against the Redtail and looking sulky.  He continued to think, trying to remember any clues in Faye's behavior or comments.  "What about the last time we were on Earth?" he said slowly.  "She left and didn't come back until a week later, right after Vicious gained control of the Syndicate.  Remember, Ed?  You left that same day."

"Oooh yeah, Ed remembers!  Faye-Faye told Edward that she remembered where she belonged.  Faye-Faye said belonging was the best thing ever!  She said Ed should find where to belong.  So Ed left too, but father-person kept forgetting about Ed."  Ed looked sad and Ein whined and licked her foot.  "Ed likes it better on the Bebop-Bebop.  Faye-Faye must too, because she came back."  Spike stared at her, digesting all this information.

"No," he sighed.  "Faye came back because she had no where else to go."

"But Faye-Faye said she be-looonged!" Ed protested, looking upset. 

"She does!" Spike snapped.  "She belongs here!"  Ed's eyes rounded.  "Uh…that is…so Faye was gone for a week since that day.  Can you find out where she was in that time frame?"  Ed began typing again.  _What the hell is the matter with me? _Spike wondered, puffing on his cigarette urgently, as if it were medicine.

"Ed found some coordinates, floordinates!" Edward sang.  She pushed her laptop around so Spike could read.

"Earth: longitude 55, latitude 75….hmm, nothing listed around that area 'cept residential homes…could be something.  Ganymede: longitude 32, latitude 90…bars, casinos…typical Faye.  Mars:  longitude 117, latitude 64…a re-fueling station and airport.  Well, looks like Earth's my best bet, wouldn't you say, Ed?"  Ed responded with a loud snore.  She was still cross-legged, head drooping to the side and drool dribbling out of the corner of her mouth.  Ein looked over at Spike.  "Good night, Ed," Spike sighed, closing the hatch door of the Redtail.

**_"Bruise Pristine" by Placebo.  _**


	12. Lint and Small Change

Faye stumbled through the living room and into the kitchen, sleep blurring her eyes.  Jet stood beside the stove, wrapped in a short robe and wearing fuzzy slippers.  The right slipper was tapping irritably.  Faye sat down at the table and grunted.  Jet slammed a plate down in front of her.  Faye picked up a fork and poked at the white gooey mess, grumbling unintelligibly.

            "Faye," he said, clearing his throat.  "Do you have any idea where we are right now?" 

            Mumble, mumble, "…bounty on Mars."

            "Yes, that _is _the destination I set the ship's computer for.  However, we are _not _on Mars," he said through clenched teeth.  "We're on Earth!"  Faye blinked.

            Mumble, mumble, "…Earth sucks."

            "Not only that," Jet agreed, "but Earth is _not_ harboring the 8 million woolong bounty we are after."  Faye grunted.  Jet stared at her, his anger growing.  "Faye!  This is all your fault!" he roared.  This seemed to shake the purple-haired bounty huntress awake.

            "Hey!  I didn't change those coordinates!" she protested.

            "I know!" Jet shouted.  "But you pulled this very same stunt before, making that idiot Spike think he could get away with it!"  Faye's mouth dropped open.  Jet threw up his hands and stalked out of the kitchen.  Faye watched him retreat, then turned back to poking her breakfast.

            "I really don't think this is edible," she muttered, as Ed wandered by.  "Trash, Ed."  Ed halted immediately and Faye scraped the white stuff into her open mouth.  Ed swallowed it in one gulp and rubbed her stomach happily.

            "Thanky, thanky Faye-Faye!"

            "At least someone around here appreciates me," Faye commented sulkily, watching Ed skip off.

            Spike lay on the park bench, eyes closed, and cigarette hanging loosely in his fingertips.  Suddenly he felt something poking his face cautiously.  

            "I told you he's dead!"

            "Is not!"

            "Is too!"

            "Is not!"  Spike opened one eye and rolled it around until he caught sight of two small, dark haired children.  One was holding a stick.

            "Is too!"

            "Is not!"

            "Is too!  Look – " One of the kids reached over to Spike's limp hand and snatched his still burning cigarette.  "Could I do that if he was – "  Spike sat up and growled.  Both the children screamed and ran away, dropping the cigarette in the grass.  Spike picked it up and brushed it off before putting it back in his mouth.  

"Damn kid germs," he muttered, glowering into the distance.  He had been wandering around the park for nearly three hours, with no clue how to proceed.  It wasn't as if he could simply approach strangers and strike up a conversation.  "…Hey, my name's Spike Spiegel," Spike muttered in a mock bright tone.  "I think a friend of mine was around here last week…do know her?  Her name's Faye Valentine – well, actually that's not her real name…I don't know her real name…but I was wondering if you saw her talking to a weird man with silver hair and an ugly bird…" Spike snorted.

"Yes, Muffy did."  Spike shouted and whirled around, coming face to face with a round, beaming face.  

"What?"   

            "Muffy saw Faye and Vicious talking."  The strange woman (?) turned around and began pushing her shopping cart while Spike gaped at her.

            "Wh-What?  Wait!  How do you know Faye and Vicious?" Spike demanded, leaping over the bench and following her.  The wo/man paused and scrounged around in her shopping cart, giving Spike a chance to study her.  S/he was dressed in a shapeless gray garment, had white hair that stuck up in odd places and a very brown, very wrinkled face.  Spike was 75% sure it was female.  

            "Muffy has found it!" Muffy announced cheerfully, handing Spike something.  Spike continued to stared at her.

            "So this is Ed all grown up," he said bemusedly, then looked down at what she handed him.  A picture.  It was undeniably Faye.  Besides the characteristic green eyes, tiny red mouth, and delicate white face, Spike recognized that little girl from Faye's video.  "Ah, say, Muffy…you didn't happen to hear any of that conversation between Faye and Vicious, did you?"

            "Certainly," Muffy sniffed.  "Muffy remembers all."

            "Oh, yeah?" Spike said doubtfully.  "Well, whatever you could remember would be a big help – "

            "First stranger-man comes with Muffy."

            "Uh – hey, wait!"  Spike dashed after the rapidly moving old woman.  She pushed her cart to the street beside the park and began to climb the steep hill.  Spike panted after her.  When they reached the top, she walked through the gateway of what looked like was once a grand estate, but the asteroids had long reduced the mansion to a crumbling foundation.  The wind whipped around fiercely, and Spike dug his hands into his jacket pockets.  "What'd you bring us up here for?" he asked sullenly.

            "This was Faye's house!" Muffy said brightly.  Spike straightened and looked around a little more closely.  "Faye was here when _he _came…  'Hello Miss Valentine.'"  Spike started at the near-perfect imitation of Vicious' raspy voice.  " '_You_!'"  Spike's mouth dropped open.  She had Faye's voice and facial expression down to a tee.
    
    Here is my fortune
    
    here is my fame
    
    here is my future
    
    it's in my pocket
    
    and if my fortune
    
    weren't only lint and small change
    
    wishing in one hand
    
    bird in the other
    
    see which one will take me farthest from here
    
    here is my hopelessness
    
    though i'm not helpless
    
    i need a window
    
    that i can climb through
    
    just one small opening
    
    a little lantern to light my way
    
    discovering my hands
    
    catch at the altar
    
    i fall on my face as the words hit my ear
    
    here is my fortune
    
    here is my fame
    
    here is my future
    
    it's in my pocket
    
    il est dans mon poche

"Il est dans mon poche"!  By Over the Rhine.  Find out what happened between Faye and Vicious…next time!


	13. Playground Love

Lucky chapter 13!!! Vicious confronts Faye… 

"Relax."  Vicious raised his hands, proclaiming peace.  "As you see, I brought no syndicate members with me…I mean you no harm."  Faye stood like a deer in the headlights, ready to run at a split second.  Vicious turned away from her and walked a short distance.  "I come here often.  There used to be the most beautiful house here, on this very spot."  When he turned back around, Faye stood with her arms wrapped around herself, her red jacket zipped up all the way.  She stared at the ground, her eyes large and brimming with tears.  "Why have _you _come, Miss Valentine?"  She looked up at him, searching his face.

"I was just taking a walk," she said finally, voice soft.  They stared at each other in silence.

"Ah," Vicious said at last.  "Well I didn't mean to disturb you."  His voice was angry, frustrated, and desperate all at once, and he began to walk away.  

"Wait!" Faye cried, as if against her will.  "Is that all you have to say to me, after fifty years?"  Vicious whirled around and headed towards her with long, quick strides.  He swept her into his arms before she could back away.

"You remember…" He breathed in a hiss, eyes wild.  

"Y-yes," she choked out, fighting back tears.

"How long?" he demanded, breath hot against her face.

"Just today," she answered quietly.  He gazed at her with a longing so fierce it made her shiver, then crushed her against his chest, mouth searching for hers hungrily.  Faye turned her head to the side, avoiding his lips.

"What?" he demanded.  She refused to look at him and bit her lower lip in troubled silence.  Vicious released her suddenly, as if she burned him.  "It's Spiegel, isn't it."  Faye jerked her head up.

"Spike?  I – no!"

"What, then?" he growled.  "Tell me!"  

"We're different people now," Faye said, voice thick with pain.  "You're Vicious and I'm Faye Valentine. I'm not…I'm not in love with you," she stammered, hiccupping back a sob.  Vicious looked the most alive she'd ever seen him, his dead face flickering with emotion.

"How can you say that?  I gave my _life _for you!" he shouted.  "They said you would be frozen for years and years before they could heal all your wounds.  I scraped together every cent I had – sold everything – and paid to be cryogenically frozen.  I told them to wake me the same time they woke you, so we would always be together.  I thought our love was eternal…  But they fucked up, Faye, and unfroze me ten years early.  You've been on your own for three years.  I've been alone for thirteen.  I had no idea where you were…I had no idea were _I _was – they had to move everyone off the hospital on Earth because of the asteroids.  I searched for you for two years before I gave up hope and joined the Red Dragon Syndicate.  By then I was dead, so it was easy to make a career out of killing."  While he spoke a light rain had begun, and they were both soaking.  Cold droplets weaved down Faye's face and slid under the warmth of her jacket.  Beads of rain clung to the tips of Vicious' silver strands, making them look like a cluster of dripping icicles.

"I'm sorry," Faye whispered.  Vicious' lip curled.

"You're sorry," he repeated.  

"I just can't do this," she cried emotionally.  "I've spent the past three years clinging to any scrap of proof that I ever existed, continuously searching for something to link me to my past…  It's brought me nothing but pain and sorrow.  It's time to let go, to move on and look towards my future."  Vicious leaned forward and grabbed her arm tightly.

"You are who you are," he said grimly.  "And you _are _Faye Harte."  Faye winced.

"No, she's dead."

"You're Faye Harte, who am I?"  Faye shook her head.

"Who am I?!" Vicious screamed in rage.  Faye sobbed and tried to wrench free, but he only jerked on her arm harder.

"You're David Yung," she answered dully.

I'm a high school lover, and you're my favorite flavor   
Love is all, all my soul   
You're my Playground Love   
  
Yet my hands are shaking   
I feel my body remains, time's no matter, I'm on fire   
On the playground, love.   
  
You're the piece of gold, that flushes all my soul.   
Extra time, on the ground.   
You're my Playground Love.   
  
Anytime, anywhere,   
You're my Playground Love.

_David!_ Spike thought.  A recent memory flashed through his mind: he leaned over an unconscious Faye in the cramped quarters of the Swordfish II's cockpit, she caressed his cheek lightly with a slender finger, "_David_" tumbling out in a murmur from her full red lips…  

"Then what happened?" he demanded of the mysterious eavesdropper, Muffy.  Muffy closed her eyes.

"He let go of her and she fell to the ground on her knees, one hand holding her arm lightly where his fingers left bruises.  She stared at the ground, rain coming harder and faster, pelting her already bruised and fragile body…  When she looked up, he was gone."  Muffy opened her eyes.  "Are you Spiegel?" she asked suddenly.  "Spike Spiegel?"  Spike raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," he said after a moment's hesitation.

 "Vicious thought you stole his Faye's heart."  Muffy's eyes were sharp and bright.

"Yeah, well, Vicious was insane," he responded shortly, shrugging his shoulders and turning to go.  "Thanks for everything."

"Would Spike like to see a picture of David Yung?" Muffy asked quickly, and began rooting through her shopping cart without waiting for a reply.  Spike paused and took the picture she handed him.  It was of an attractive young man with black hair to his shoulders and dark, intense blue eyes, his pale lips quirked in a half smile.

"This was Vicious?" Spike asked incredulously.  Muffy frowned.

"No.  David Yung," she corrected.  "Vicious has pale hair and pale eyes, like the color of dead fish."  Muffy pulled down on the loose skin under her eyes for emphasis.

"I wonder what made him look that way," Spike murmured to himself.

"A frequent side effect of cryogenic freezing is the loss of pigmentation in the hair and eyes," Muffy announced expertly. 

"Ah," Spike said feebly, holding out the picture for her to take.

"No, Spike keeps that, and this one too."  Muffy handed him the picture of Faye.  

"Hey…where'd you get these, anyway?"

"Found 'em," Muffy said vaguely.

"Oh.  Thanks."

"Good bye now." 

"…Bye."

Sooo…whaddya think?  Now you know about the tie b/twn Faye and Vicious (I think most of you guessed it), but you still don't know why she killed him…  Sorry Blooknaburg, I have several more yards of evil string…Mwaha.

Song: "Playground Love" by Air.  I LOVE this song…very cool and jazzy…perfect for Bebop.  


	14. A Walking Contradiction

Spike sliced the air with his hands then swung his hips around and leaned back slightly for a high kick.  He held that position for a moment, muscles straining and sweat dripping down his face.  One droplet slid down his forehead and clung to the tip of his nose precariously.  Spike spun around, sweat spraying everywhere, and began a new series of kicks and jabs and twists.

            He hardly remembered the trip back to the Bebop, or even Jet's heated scolding.  Somewhere out in space it had finally sunk in: Faye and Vicious.  A couple.  An item.  _Lovers_.  

Spike punched the wall, a metallic thump resonating throughout the room.  He let his hand rest against the wall for a moment, then backed away, panting heavily and arms hanging limply at his sides.  He sniffed the air suddenly.

            A pleasant aroma had permeated his training room.  Hadn't Jet come in to tell him about dinner being ready?  More than once in fact, shouting something about bell peppers and beef.  Spike released a breathy laugh.  _Yeah, Jet's famous bell peppers and beef…hold the beef.  _Still, it did smell good and his stomach growled appreciatively.  Spike patted it, as if calming a restless beast.  He was starving, but he didn't want to go to the kitchen.  Didn't want to sit down at the table and face – 

            "Hey."

Faye.  She smirked at him, hand on hip.  

            "Some workout," she cooed.  "You'll never get into shape just standing around like that."  Her eyes sparkled with playful teasing, alight with the anticipation of his assuredly smart-assed retort.  Spike stared at her silently.  A part of him longed to continue the normalcy, to respond with an appropriate sarcastic and witty insult.  But his lips stayed frozen in a hard line.  Faye's smile faded and she looked at him uncertainly.

            "I uh, brought you some dinner…." She held a large plate out to him.  Spike glanced down at it.

            "Bell peppers and…_BEEF_!"  Spike snatched the plate from her and began shoveling the food in his mouth.  Faye's grin returned.

            "Yeah, you should've heard Jet ranting when you didn't show up to dinner.  I finally had to agree to bring this food to you or he'd have never shut up."  So much for normalcy.  The old Faye would've eaten the food once she was out of Jet's sight and retreated to her room in self-satisfied triumph.  

            "Thanks," Spike mumbled.

            "Whatever," Faye shrugged uneasily, as if noticing the weirdness of her actions for the first time.  She moved to the center of the room aimlessly, then assumed a fighter's stance and punched the air a few times.  "So this is where you train, huh?"  She whipped around suddenly in a roundabout kick.  Spike watched her from the corner of his eye.  _Not bad_, he admitted grudgingly.  Maybe if he trained her a little, she'd stop screwing up so many of their bounties.  He mulled this over, licking his now bare plate lovingly.  

            "Want a sparing partner?" he asked finally, setting his plate down and walking over to face her.  Faye stared at him in astonishment, smiling in genuine pleasure.  

            "Yeah, sure.  And this time you'll be the one with the bruises."  Spike tensed and hunched his shoulders defensively, but relaxed at Faye's lighthearted laughter. 

"We'll see about that."  Spike stood up straighter, feeling as though a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.  He hadn't realized how heavily that episode with Faye had been praying at his mind.  Her ability to laugh at it made him feel lighter, carefree.  

They circled warily, eying each other.  Faye curled her hands into fists, holding them up near her face like a boxer.  Spike kept both his hands at his sides, relaxed but ready.  Faye struck out first, right hand jabbing at his face.  Spike dodged it easily and grabbed her wrist, preparing to spin her around and twist her arm behind her back.  But Faye pulled away and kicked him in the stomach, causing Spike to released her with a surprised 'Oomph.'  

He regarded her more cautiously, and she lifted her eyebrows mockingly.  This time Spike attacked, dropping to the ground and transferring all his weight to his hands as he lashed out with his legs, kicking Faye's feet out from underneath her.  Faye fell onto her back with a yelp, but immediately flipped back to her feet, using only her hands.  This time Spike raised his eyebrows, impressed despite himself.  

"Where'd you learn how to do that?"  Faye snorted.

"I _did _have to survive on my own for three years before I had you to protect me, O Supreme Master of Martial Arts.  And – " She frowned, hesitating, then shrugged.  "And as it turns out, I used to take gymnastics and self-defense classes when I was younger."  Spike shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily.  It was weird having Faye talk about her past like that, and strange to think of her as a little girl, participating in little girl activities.    

Faye delivered a roundabout kick, aiming for his face.  Spike ducked underneath it and leapt forward, wrist bent at a ninety-degree angle and fingers curled slightly over a flat palm.  He planned to strike her chin and snap her head back, but Faye lifted her arm at the last minute and blocked him, jumping nimbly back.  

            Spike exhaled shortly.  He was torn between exasperation and excitement.  Common sense dictated that he should have defeated Faye a long time ago, but it interested him to find a challenge where he thought there was none.  Pride won out, and Spike decided to end it.  He leapt into the air, kicking the space just above Faye's head.  She stumbled backwards, hitting the wall.  Spike landed agilely on his feet and thrust himself forward.  Faye tried to dive to the side, but Spike caught her wrists and pinned her against the wall.  Faye pouted.

            "Damn it, Spike!"  Spike grinned wolfishly, peering down at her triumphantly.  Her delicately arched eyebrows were drawn together, slanting downwards, and her green eyes flashed with annoyance.  The corners off her mouth pulled downwards and her lower lip poked out slightly.  Spike noticed her new outfit for the first time – black pants that molded tightly to her slender legs and a dark red tank with a low scoop neck.  With her arms raised above her head, the shirt lifted to reveal her flat stomach, the hemline barely covering the swell of her breasts.

She's beautiful.

            It was as though the floodgates had been thrown open, and he was being pounded, crushed into oblivion by a torrent of emotion.  Every nerve in his body was alive, buzzing and awake.  His mind screamed a thousand reasons why he should let her go, walk away, and leave the room alone, but he could only press closer, watching as her features shifted from annoyance to breathless confusion.  He lowered his head slowly, as if fighting gravity, until his lips hovered just above hers, his breath coming out in hot puffs and blending with hers.  His eyelids slid half-closed, and he covered her mouth with his.
    
    In a world so big and cold
    
    you seem so all alone
    
    then someone enters your life
    
    and makes it all seem right
    
    sometimes things do change
    
    love turns to bitter rage
    
    and you say "Never again"
    
    but emotions always mend
    
    It's the root of all disharmony
    
    but it's the need to feel complete
    
    it's a physical attraction
    
    a chemical reaction
    
    a walking contradiction
    
    a push, pull affliction
    
    it's a love...hate relationship
    
    You can see it in our band
    
    we're all so different
    
    every solution we come to
    
    starts with an argument
    
    but through adversity
    
    the music's in our heart
    
    we'll stay together
    
    you can't tear us apart
    
    It's the root of all disharmony
    
    but it's the need to feel complete
    
    it's a physical attraction
    
    a chemical reaction
    
    a walking contradiction
    
    a push, pull affliction
    
    it's a love...hate relationship
    
    Love...hate is it one in the same
    
    I can't differentiate between
    
    love and hate
    
    love...hate is it one in the same
    
    I can't differentiate between
    
    love and hate
    
    I hate to love, I love to hate you
    
    love and hate is it one in the same
    
    love...hate
    
    We always take for granted
    
    the one's that love
    
    we think they'll always be there
    
    and we treat them as such
    
    but if we really make an effort
    
    to show them that we care
    
    our love will shine through
    
    and the hate will disappear
    
    It's the root of all disharmony
    
    but it's the need to feel complete
    
    it's a physical attraction
    
    a chemical reaction
    
    a walking contradiction
    
    a push, pull affliction
    
    it's a love...hate relationship

**_So…I'll continue this scene in the next chapter…hehe.  Are you guys glad something's finally happening in the Faye/Spike department?_**

**_"Love…Hate" lyrics by Sacred Reich._**


	15. Take My Lips

Sorry!  It was beyond evil of me to leave you guys on that cliff for so long.  Well, back to where we left off last time…

It was less a kiss, and more a slow, gentle warmth spreading over her lips, serene, like soft morning light, and otherworldly.  Faye dared not move, and Spike seemed frozen with indecision, quivering with control.  His lips fluttered once, and he seemed about to pull away.  Faye steeled herself for the cold pain of his withdrawal, but something within her cried out in denial and bubbled to her lips, parting them with a quiet gasp.  Spike groaned aloud, abandoned his resolve, and plunged deeply into her mouth, hands leaving her wrists to push back her sleek hair.  He trailed kisses down to her jawbone and throat, pushing against her urgently.  

Faye let him wash over her like a wave, like a warm breeze, or an intoxicating scent.  Her eyes were closed and her was head flung back; her hands twisted the silken material of his shirt.  She knew it was wrong.  They were going too fast and she was feeling too much.  His need scared her, but her own need scared her even more.  She should tell him to stop, to slow down.  But if she let him go now, she knew she'd never be alive again.

Spike gripped Faye's shoulders, fingers digging into her like talons, then moved downwards and wrapped his arms around her waist.  He pulled her away from the wall, cradling her against him, and lowered her to the floor.  He draped himself over her like velvet, stroking her cheek.

"I need you now."  

Faye shivered, looking up at him.  His garnet eyes, usually so calm and cool, blazed with a ferocious passion.  She reached up slowly and combed her fingers through his thick green hair, never looking away from those mismatched eyes.  A distant memory swam before her, when she looked into blue eyes, and the scent of cherry blossoms wafted heavily through the air.  A question hovered in her ears then, as it did now.  Her inevitable response:

"Yes."

He sat with his back to her, legs drawn up and elbows resting on his knees.  The end of his cigarette glowed orange in the dark and each time he exhaled, a cloud of smoke framed his head hazily.  He had redressed in his blue slacks and yellow shirt, his jacket flung over one shoulder.  Faye lay curled on the floor, naked.  She breathed deeply and evenly to give the impression of easy slumber, but her eyes were open, never leaving his dim outline.

She could guess what he was thinking.  'What the hell did I do?  This was the biggest mistake of my life…  How the fuck am I going to get out of this one?'  Spike crushed out his cigarette and began to climb to his feet.  Faye snapped her eyes shut.  She felt the floor vibrate as he moved closer, stopping right next to her face.  She inhaled deeply, breathing in the dusty, cracked leather scent of his shoes, followed by the faint aroma of tobacco smoke.  Old leather and cigarettes.  Faye felt her chest begin to ache and her throat constrict.  Why did he just stand there like that?  It was growing hard to breath calmly.  And then, suddenly, he was gone.  Faye opened her eyes and found herself alone in the dark room.

She rolled onto her back and folded her arms over her chest, the cold metal of the floor stinging her bare skin.  She didn't even reach for her clothes; she felt too numb to move.  Staring up at the ceiling, the blackness seemed thick and suffocating.  It rubbed against her sickeningly, flowing into her mouth and nostrils, filling her empty.

He left me.

            Two salty tears rolled down her smooth cheeks to splash onto the hard metal floor.  She turned onto her side with a slight sigh that somehow wrenched itself into a sob.  She brought her knees to her chest, curling into the fetal position, tears sliding down her face more quickly.  Her body shook with silent sobs, eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared in a grimace of pain.  She took a deep breath and released it in a low, shaky howl, dragging her fingernails against the floor with a metallic scrape.  Self-loathing wrapped itself around her like a noose.

            Her cheek was wet with tears, gathered in a puddle on the floor.  She lifted her head and wiped her face dry, staring down at her dim, shadowy reflection, trapped in that salty pool.  Faye emitted a shaky, frightened sigh.  Her tears glinted wetly, slick and threatening like the edge of a knife.  
    
    All of me, 
    
    Why not take all of me?
    
    Can't you see, 
    
    I'm no good without you?
    
    Take my lips, 
    
    I want to lose them
    
    Take my arms, 
    
    I'll never use them
    
    Your good-bye, 
    
    Left me with eyes that cry
    
    How can I, 
    
    Go on dear without you
    
    You took the part 
    
    That once was my heart
    
    So why not take all of me?  
    
      
    
    

Lyrics: "All of Me," preformed by Mildred Bailey (1932).  Sorry it's such a short chapter, but hopefully the next one will be faster getting up.  I've had a couple hellishly busy weeks, and I've got a couple hellishly busy weeks coming up again, so please forgive the long waits.  Reviews were awesome!  Keep 'em comin'! 


	16. The Queen of Hearts is Always Your Best ...

Faye padded into her room, wrapped in her short, white robe, dripping puddles with each step.  Her normally pale skin was flushed pink with an hour long, scorching hot shower.  She moved over to her closet, flung the door open, and peered inside.  Her tiny closet was crammed full of clothes; mostly dresses she'd needed to wear to various functions and hadn't been able to return afterwards, or that she'd neglected to pay for in the first place.  Faye scowled.  She had nothing to wear.  Her latest outfit was crumpled in a tight wad, smashed into one of corners of her closet, and she almost laughed at the idea of putting on that ridiculous skirt and blouse.

            No, both outfits had too much Faye Harte in them.  And whenever she was Faye Harte, she got stung.  She needed to be all Valentine.  After all, Faye Valentine was still alive, while Harte had died half a century ago.  

            She needed something tight.  So fucking tight it'd give a priest a hard-on.  Faye smirked, feeling nauseated.  So tight and revealing that all they'd see was a hot body, nothing further.  Too bad that outfit was lying in a dumpster somewhere on Mars.  She muttered irritably, snatching clothes randomly off their hangers, then discarding them over her shoulder.  She continued this method for quite some time before her hand closed over something sleek and shiny.  Faye smiled slowly.  Perfect.  It was an exact replica of her skimpy yellow ensemble, except for its red color.  She'd picked it out years ago, with Witney Hagas Matsumoto, who had insisted on the color because it was his favorite for her.  Faye shrugged off her robe and wriggled into the tiny shorts, pulling the suspenders on with a satisfied snap, then slipped on the top, buttoning it taut across her breasts.  Perfect.

            "Smoke, smoke, smoke!  Puff, puff, puff!  Chimney-Spike!  Spike-chimney!  Smoke, smoke, smoke…" Spike followed Ed's movements as she danced around the room, limbs flailing.

            "Ed…I'm not smoking."  He'd run out of cigarettes ten minutes ago.  

            "Puff, puff, puff…"  Spike sighed, looking at his empty carton woefully.

            "Say, Ed?"  Ed paused, arms raised above her head.

            "Yes chimney-Spike?"

            "I think Jet was looking for someone to help him with his bonsai trees, if you wanted to – "

            "Snip, snip bonsai!" Ed hollered, darting off.

            "Let Jet deal with her for a while…" he muttered, stretching out full length on the yellow couch.  He had too much to think about to be distracted by Ed.  Namely, last night.

            So…temporary insanity?  Jeez, I sound like an asshole.  But me and Faye?  We're like two different species, for fuck's sake!  Then again, last night didn't feel wrong…  It felt like when I was with Julia.  Spike shifted uncomfortably, then ground his teeth in anger.  That's fucking bullshit.  Faye like Julia, ha!  Maybe not temporary insanity, more like temporary lust.  Yeah, that could be it.  After all, it'd been a while since I last -  

            His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heels clicking on metal, and he lifted his head before thinking.  Green eyes stared back at him, flickering once with some emotion he couldn't identify. Spike slouched down into the cushions of the couch, unnerved by a wave of jumbled, intense feeling.  

Temporary lust, temporary lust…he repeated frantically.  And then she was past him, heading for the kitchen.  Spike relaxed and heaved a silent sigh of relief.  He turned his head cautiously and watched her retreating form, slim, curving back exposed, hips swaying sensuously…

Oh shit.
    
    Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
    
    You been out ridin' fences for so long now,
    
    Oh, you're a hard one, I know that you got your reasons,
    
    These things that are pleasin' you can hurt you somehow.
    
    Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy, she'll beat you if she's
    
    able.
    
    You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet.
    
    Now it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table,
    
    But you only want the ones you can't get.
    
    Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger,
    
    Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home,
    
    And freedom, oh freedom, well, that's just some people talkin'
    
    Your prison is walkin' through this world all alone.
    
    Don't your feet get cold in the wintertime?
    
    The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine,
    
    It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day.
    
    You're losin' all your highs and lows,
    
    Ain't it funny how the feelin' goes away?
    
    Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
    
    Come down from your fences, open the gate
    
    It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you.
    
    You better let somebody love you,
    
    LET SOMEBODY LOVE YOU. 
    
    You better let somebody love you,
    
    before it's too late.

Faye jerked the refrigerator door open and leaned against it, gazing at the containers of food without really seeing them.  What was that look in his eyes…  Embarrassment?  Confusion?  Anger?  She pulled out what she thought was a carton of orange juice.  It doesn't matter.  Like I give a shit about that ass, Spike.

            "Ed!"  Jet thundered from the other room.  "Stay away from my –" Something crashed to the floor and shattered.  All was silent for a moment, then Jet came storming into the kitchen, dragging a limp Edward across the floor.

            "But Ed was helping!" she protested.  Jet snarled wordlessly, lifting her and dumping her into a chair.

            "Will you stop 'helping' if I fix you something to eat?" he demanded.  Ed straightened and nodded her head furiously.  "Good.  How about some – " Jet turned towards the refrigerator, then broke off, noticing Faye for the first time.  "Oh, er - so you're finally up, are you?"  Faye kicked the fridge door shut and began to drink orange juice directly from the carton.  Jet glared and snatched it away from her.  "Honestly, Faye, if you want orange juice, pour some in a glass…  There are other people on this ship, you know."  He slammed the carton down on the table and reached in the cabinet behind him to get a glass.

            "Well, excuse me!" Faye said huffily, tossing her hair and placing a hand on her bare hip.  Jet glanced back at her.

            "So what happened to yesterday's outfit?" he asked casually.  Faye shrugged.

            "It's in my closet."

            "Aren't you going to wear it anymore?"  Faye ignored him, studying her nails pointedly.

            "I thought that it was a very nice – "

            "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Faye exploded, throwing up her hands.  "What are you…the fashion police?"  She stalked past him angrily, muttering, "like you're one to talk."  Jet watched her go, eyebrows lifted in surprise.

            "I think I'm very fashionable," he said in an injured tone.  "Don't you Ed?"  He looked over at the wiry red-head, who had ripped open the carton of orange juice and was proceeding to lap it up like a dog.  Ein was watching her interestedly.  Jet rolled his eyes and sighed.        

            "Men are such idiots," Faye muttered, releasing a stream of smoke.  She sat on the toilet in the cramped space of the bathroom, elbows resting on her knees, a cigarette dangling from her lower lip.  She stared into the distance absently, an image of Spike reclining casually on the couch flashing before her eyes.  "God, they are such idiots!" she fumed, snatching the cig from her mouth and hurling it to the floor, grinding it into oblivion with the heel of her black boot.  

            "Faye-Faye, say-say, play-play, day-day…" Faye moaned and dropped her head into her hands.

            "Not now…"  The all too familiar voice silenced, and Faye lifted her head hopefully.  

            "Faye-Faye!"  Ed rapped on the door loudly.

            "Go away, Ed!"  Faye told her.

            "Faye-Faye!" Ed whined.

            "What is it?" Faye asked through clenched teeth.

            "You've got mail!"

            "What?"  Faye stood up and opened the bathroom door.  "Is it ticking?"  Ed looked at her blankly, then held Tomato up to her ear and listened.

            "Nay-nay, Faye-Faye!"

            "Oh, it's e-mail.  Lemme see…"  Faye grabbed the laptop from her and peered at it narrowly.  "Where…"

            "It's video, Faye-Faye!" Ed chirped, snaking around and striking a key.  

            "Hello, Faye."  Faye's hands went limp and she almost dropped the laptop.

            "N-no…" she gasped, eyes widened in horror, backing up and holding the computer as far away from her as possible.  Vicious' pale face loomed at her from the screen.

I'm really, REALLY sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long…  Especially after all the excellent reviews you gave.

Um, please don't hurt me?

Song titled "Desperado," lyrics by D. Henley and G. Frey


	17. With Dreams of Yesterday

**Refresher:  Last chapter, Faye gets mail – a video message from…duh, duh, duuh…Vicious!  How can he still be alive?  IS he still alive?  What the hell is going on?!  Read on to find out!**

"No! You're dead!" Faye screamed at the cold face on the laptop.

            "Faye-Faye?" Ed questioned.  "It's a recording Faye-Faye…stranger-man cannot hear you."

            "I am very much alive, Faye.  And I am quite upset by your assassination attempt."  His lip curled into a hard sneer.  "Indeed, so upset that I deemed it necessary to make a recording, rather than engage in a live conversation, lest I say something I would regret later on."  He laughed suddenly, dry and humorless.  "However, I do believe communication is important in a relationship, don't you Faye?" His eyes gleamed madly.  "That is why I must insist on a rendezvous…  Say, twelve tonight at 3 Illyria Street on Mars?  I'll be anxiously awaiting you…  Don't disappoint me, Faye."  He leaned in closer, his eyes burning a hole through her.  "You know what will happen if you do."  The screen went black and Faye handed the laptop back to Ed silently.  Ed cocked her head to the side, staring at Faye.

            "Faye-Faye?"  Ed tugged on the older woman's arm.  She stood stiffly, hands clenched at her side and eyes lowered.  

            "He's wrong."  Faye said lowly.  "I won't go, it won't work this time.  He can fucking die for all I care!" she shouted, lifting her head and banging an open hand against the wall.  She suddenly grabbed Ed's computer, fingers flying over the keyboard as she deleted the audio message.  "No one hears about this message, understand Ed?"

            "Why – "

            "Ed!"  Faye bent down and grabbed Ed's chin, pulling her face in closer.  "This is very important Ed.  No one can ever learn about this message.  Very, very bad things will happen if anyone ever finds out.  Now, do you understand me?"

            "Yes, General Faye-Faye!" Ed saluted.

            "Be serious for once, won't you?" Faye snapped.

            "Why?  Why Ed should be serious?"

            "Oh Ed, aren't you ever sad?" Faye asked softly, all the anger and frustration draining out of her, leaving her face pale and childlike.  Ed studied her silently.

            "Not always sad, like Faye-Faye."  Faye opened her mouth to protest, but Ed cut her off.  "What will happen if Faye-Faye doesn't go meet stranger-person?"

            "I…"  Faye lapsed into silence, worrying her lower lip with one tooth.  "I suppose he'll probably come here," she concluded quietly.

            "Will he bring souvenirs, Faye-Faye?" Ed demanded excitedly, dancing on the tips of her feet.  Faye watched her with a mixture of frustration and amusement.

            "No, Ed, I don't think so."

            "Spike!  Faye!" Jet called.  "Dinner's on, come and get it!"  Spike slouched through the door, hands pushed deep into his pockets.  He paused and surveyed the room cautiously before sliding into a chair.  "Where's Faye?" Jet demanded.

            "Fuck if I know," Spike muttered around a mouth full of noodles.  Jet frowned and cuffed the back of Spike's head, causing him to spit out his noodles.  "Hey!"

            "Don't start eating until everyone gets here," Jet snarled.  "It's called common courtesy, Spike."

            "Edward is here!"  Ed made a flying leap, bounced off Spike's head, and landed in her chair.  It wobbled from side to side a few times before coming to a stop. 

            "Ow!" Spike complained, rubbing his thick green mop.  "Jeez, Ed, I think you gave me a concussion!"

            "Don't whine, Spike," Jet said mildly.  "Eat your noodles."

            "But you just – " Spike exploded.

            "Is it dinner time already?  I saw Ed trample Ein in a mad rush to the kitchen, so I thought I should check it out."  Faye glided into the room and perched on the edge of her chair, poised and calm.

            "I called you half an hour ago," Jet exaggerated grumpily, lifting his chopsticks.  Faye shrugged delicately.  Spike glanced at her from the corner of his eye, picking at his food much more slowly than before.

            "Hey, Jet, pass the salt?" he asked casually.

            "I already put salt on it," Jet replied stubbornly.

            "Yeah, he already put salt on it," Faye repeated coolly.  Spike stared at her.

            "Well I like my noodles salty," he said finally.

            "They're salty enough."

            "Look, I know how I like my noodles – "

            "You don't know what's good for you.  Too much salt will dehydrate you."

            "I want more salt, dammit!" Spike yelled, slamming a fist on the table.

            "That's too bad!  You don't always get what you want!" Faye yelled back, leaping up from her chair.  They glared at each other, then Faye swung around abruptly and stalked out of the room, heels clicking sharply.  Spike glanced at Ed, who was still slurping noodles, over to Jet, who was staring at him wide-eyed.

            "Uh…?"  He offered Spike the miniature saltshaker.  Spike left the table silently and strode into the living room after Faye.  He caught up with her by the couch.

            "What the hell was that all about?" he demanded, grabbing her by the shoulder.  She jerked away from his hand as if it'd stung her, lips curling in a sneer.  

            "How dare you," she growled in a low tone, eyes like hard, green marbles.  Spike took a nervous step back.  "Last night…"

            "Uh, look Faye – "

            "No you look!" Faye blazed fiercely.  "I don't…" her small, red lips quivered and pulled into a frown, and she took a shaky breath.  "I don't want anything more to do with you, I hate you!"  She stamped her foot childishly and glared at him, tears dancing precariously over her lower lashes.  Spike ran a hand through his poofy hair and shifted uncomfortably.

            "Faye…" he muttered, voice strained and frustrated.  Faye's glare died and drained out of her.

            "It's Julia, right?" she asked quietly.

            "Don't…"

            "I deserve at least that much, Spike.  Is it because of Julia?"

            "No.  Yes…no."

            "Which is it?"  She was growing angry again – desperately angry.  It scared her that he'd said 'no' twice and 'yes' only once.  If the problem wasn't Julia, then what the hell was it?  Spike shifted his head slightly and gazed at her.  His garnet eyes were turmoil.  Passionate, like last night, but with more anguish.

            "I can't be with you," he forced out, "because you belong to Vicious."  His voice cracked, torn between sorrow and anger.  "His girlfriend, his lover, his…  You're Vicious', Faye, not mine."  Faye paled and gasped sharply.

            "I never…" she choked on her words as Spike silently handed her two photographs, the ones Muffy had given to him on Earth.  The one on top was of a young, handsome man.  "Oh, David," Faye moaned, grasping the photograph and wanting to tear it.  The photograph of her younger self slipped from her hand and fluttered to the floor, staring up at her.  Faye tried to steady the dry, gasping sobs that shivered throughout her body.  "How could you?"

            "'Figure it out yourself.'  Those were your words, Faye.  So I did a little detective work.  You and Vicious were high school sweethearts when you were involved in some sort of accident and had to be cryogenically frozen.  Vicious scraped together every last penny to freeze himself so that when you woke up, he would be there waiting.  But the doctors thawed him out too soon.  His life was hell for ten plus years while he searched for you, and when he finally finds you, you murder him.  You're some kind of girlfriend, Faye."  Spike looked at her coldly.

            "For whom do you have sympathy?" Faye asked finally.  "Vicious?  Or David?"

            "Oh don't give me that shit!"  Spike burst out, eyes narrowed.  "Vicious and David are the same person…  You're just trying to lessen the guilt, Faye.  You don't believe in that 'separate people' crap any more than I do."

            "Yes, I do!" Faye cried.  "And you would too if you knew David…if you knew him before this fucking place twisted him."

            "What place?"

            "This…age, this era.  This time period."  Spike frowned.

            "What are you talking about Faye?"

            "Spike, I don't belong here!" she yelled, flinging out an arm to indicate that 'here' was the Bebop.  "Everyday, a little bit more of my memory returns – in dreams, mostly.  Spike, it's torture!  Each moment is so clear and real…" Her voice dropped down to a whisper.  "All I want to do is stay in that dream forever.  I was so happy.  We were so happy."  Faye blinked away the tears swimming in her eyes.  "And lately all I dream about is David.  Moments we shared – our first kiss, our first fight.  It's like I'm being punished," her voice shook.  "To remember the kind of man he used to be, then see him as he is now…" She sobbed and closed her eyes.  "And to know that I caused the change, I turned him into that monster, Vicious."  Spike strained towards her, overcome by the need to hold her, shush her like a child and stroke her hair.  

            "Faye, it's not your fault," he said quietly.  "You couldn't foresee what would happen to you, or predict what Vicious – uh, David, would do."  Faye lifted her eyes, looking at Spike from under dark, wet lashes.  Spike sighed, something relaxing inside of him.  He smiled with his old cocky charm and stepped closer to her, wrapping and arm around her shoulders.  Faye tensed.  "Come on," he said gently, drawing her down the hallway.  Faye moved willingly, too exhausted to protest.  Spike guided Faye into her room, but remained out in the hallway leaning casually against the doorjamb.  Faye turned to face him.

            "Spike, about Vicious – " Spike shook his head, stopping her short.

            "Forget him, Faye.  We both need to.  Vicious is dead, he's past."  Spike smiled again, and Faye wondered at the sudden change in him.  Something she'd said had freed him, allowed him to let go of Vicious and Julia and all of it.  "Faye…" Faye glanced up into Spike's garnet eyes, softened and alight with desire.  He dipped his head and captured her lips in a slow, gentle kiss.  "Sleep, okay?  No dreams tonight…  David, Vicious – they're both dead."  Spike gave her one last smile then turned and disappeared down the hallway.  Faye watched him go, touching her lips lightly.

"Vicious is dead," she murmured into them, then moved her hands to cover her entire face.  Tears leaked between her fingers and she sank to the floor, sobbing silently.

Stuck between the do or die, I feel emaciated.  
Hard to breathe I try and try, I'll get asphyxiated.  
Swinging from the tallest height, with nothing left to hold on to.  
  
Every sky is blue, but not for me and you.  
  
Come home, come home, come home, come home.  
  
Glass and petrol vodka gin, it feels like breathing methane.  
Throw yourself from skin to skin, and still it doesn't dull the pain.  
Vanish like a lipstick trace, it always blows me away.  
  
Every cloud is gray, with dreams of yesterday.  
  
Come home, come home, come home, come home,  
Come home, come home, come home, come home.  
  
Always goes against the grain, and I can try and deny it  
Give a monkey half a brain, and still he's bound to fry it.  
Now the happening scene is dead, I used to want to be there too.  
  
Every sky is blue, but not for me and you.  
  
Come home, come home, come home, come home,  
Come home, come home, come home, come home.

****

****

**_Whoa!  Happy Holidays and New Year guys!  I am taking soo long with these chapters and I apologize profusely!  Anyway, at least I didn't leave you with too much of a cliffhanger this time, right?  _**

****

**_Review or perish!_**

****

**_"Come Home" lyrics by Placebo_**


	18. Pow!

**RySenkari!!  I could kiss you!  Your idea worked…  I don't understand it tho, my way always worked before…stupid FF… *shakes fist at fanfiction.net***

**Anyway, here you go guys – a chapter you can actually read.**

**Entering dream sequence…**

"Faye…  I have a bad feeling about this.  Why don't you just stay here on Earth, with me?"

"David!"  Faye laughed, bestowing a quick kiss on the cheek of her frowning boyfriend.  "Come on, we've been over this a million times."

"A million and three, to be exact," David retorted, reluctantly smiling.  "If you were keeping count."  Faye laughed again, sunlight playing over her silky hair as she tilted her head back.

"See? Even you realize how ridiculous you're being."

"I'll be pining for you Faye, withering away to nothing and you won't even think of me once when you're up there with your silly stars and planets."

"David, the trip only lasts three hours."

"Plenty of time to wither away."

"It was a birthday gift from my parents!  A ticket on the first tourist shuttle into space…isn't it exciting?  We'll coast past a super nova – at a safe distance, of course – head over to Mars, where they're beginning to build the first colony," Faye weaved her hand through the air, imitating the path of the shuttle, "then return to Earth's orbit, circle the moon once and land safely on the ground."  Faye pressed her hand to David's chest and he captured it there with his own hand.

"I just worry about you," he said softly, gazing at her steadily.

"I know."  Faye leaned against him.  She felt a gentle pressure on her hand and looked up.  A diamond sparkled on her ring finger.  "David!" she gasped.  "Are you…are you serious?"

"No, Faye, you see this is how I get my kicks…  I pretend to propose to girls, then just when they get all flustered, I grab the ring and run – "

"David!" Faye growled, punching him in the stomach with the non-ringed hand, while still staring at the diamond on the other.

"Oooh," David groaned, doubling over.  "This is why I have to run…girls are quite dangerous when they're being proposed to."

"Yes!" Faye said glowingly.

"I haven't even asked yet," David protested.  Faye placed a hand on either side of his head and drew him down for a kiss.  "Oh well, works for me," David said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.  "What do you say we skip the wedding too and go straight to the honeymoon?"  Faye hit him again, grinning.  Then she was suddenly serious.

"David, there's something I have to tell you, and if you don't want to marry me, I'll understand."

"Faye, what?" David demanded, gripping her shoulders and searching her face.

"It's just…If we do marry," Faye placed a hand over her stomach, "we'll be starting off as a family of three."  David's jaw dropped.

"Uh…come again?"

"I'm pregnant, David."

"What?!  What are you doing…standing up!" he demanded, sweeping her off her feet and cradling her in his arms.  "Hey, we need a chair!" he shouted at no one in particular.  "I've got a pregnant woman over here!"  Faye flushed scarlet, but laughed.

"David put me down!"  He obeyed, after a moment's hesitation.  "So…what do you think?" she asked when safely on her feet.

"I think there's no way in hell you're getting on that shuttle."

"This is why I wanted to wait and tell you after the trip," Faye said, groaning in frustration.  "But…" The diamond ring on her finger flashed as it caught a ray of light.  David's brow furrowed and he worried his lower lip.  "David?" Faye asked hopefully.  Her heart fell when he remained silent.  "Well, everyone else has begun to board…  You can give me an answer when I get back, okay?"  Faye turned quickly, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.  But when she began to move away, David caught her hand and pulled her back to face him.

"What answer is there to give?" he asked quietly.  "This," he brushed his hand against her stomach, "only makes me love you more, it only makes us stronger."  Faye cried out in relief, burrowing against him.  David stroked her hair.  "You'll see.  Our life will be perfect.  Another year of college and then we'll be married, with a baby!  It will be perfect, Faye, just you wait and see."

"Last call for passengers!"  Faye lifted her head and sniffed, wiping her face dry.

"I gotta go."  She smiled up at David, her eyes radiant, and stroked his cheek lovingly.  Then she pulled away and dashed over to the shuttle, the winds created by the engines of the shuttle whipping her hair across her face.

"I'm going to wait right here, Faye!" David called after her.  "I won't leave until you're back in my arms, telling me you love me!"  The engines roared as Faye climbed the stairs to the shuttle door.  "Do you hear me Faye?  Faye!"

            Faye sat up in bed with a start, David's voice reverberating in dark silence of her room.  Faye chest heaved as she tried to slow her breathing.  "No dreams…" she gasped out, then rubbed her eyes blurrily and glanced over at her clock.  11:50 P.M.  Something nagged her, nibbled at the corners of her brain.  She was forgetting something…

"Fuck!" she breathed.  Vicious, twelve o'clock on Mars…she just had ten minutes before he would come and – "No!"  Faye leapt out of bed, grabbed her black boots and gun, and crept out into the hallway.  

She tiptoed into the living area, heart quickening when she spotted Spike's still form.  He slept on his back, dark, thick curls framing a pale face.  Faye approached the couch and knelt cautiously, watching his chest rise and fall steadily.  She passed her hand over his cheek in a mock caress, watching her fingers draw shadows on his face; she knew the lightest touch would bring him to his feet.

"Bye Spike."  She mouthed the words and closed her eyes, forcing herself to turn away and stand up.  Once at a safe distance from Spike, she abandoned silence for speed, pulling on her boots as she ran.  Faye was about to enter the hangar when she was ambushed – something crashed onto her shoulders, knocking her to the ground.  "Ed!" Faye raged as she glimpsed long, tan limbs and a mop of fuzzy red hair.

"Is Faye-Faye going to meet stranger-person?" Ed asked curiously.

"Yes," Faye growled, climbing to her feet, "I am.  And I'm going to be late, so if you would please just – " An explosion rocked the ship and sent Faye flying backwards.  She landed roughly on her shoulder, but immediately pushed herself up on her elbows and gazed around blindly as smoke filled the corridor.  "Ed?" she coughed.  Faye wiped her eyes, struggling to raise her aching body.

"Over here, Faye."  Faye's throat tightened as a dim figure appeared before her, wrapped in thick smoke.  It was Vicious, and he was carrying an unconscious Ed.  

Faye glanced around her frantically, spotting her gun a few feet away.  If she could just reach it…  Faye gathered her strength and leapt, hands closing over smooth steel.  She moved to raise her gun, but a heavy boot came down on her hand, crushing it against the metal floor.  Faye cried out in pain and lost her grip.  Vicious bent down with a smirk and picked the weapon up leisurely as Faye nursed her hand.  "Now, now Faye," he murmured, hands running over the sleek gun lovingly.  

"You said twelve o'clock," Faye told him flatly.  Vicious knelt and set Ed on the floor carefully before gazing piercingly at Faye.

"I got impatient."  Faye held his gaze for a tense moment, then reached out to check on Ed.  Vicious caught her wrists roughly.  "She's fine," he rasped softly.  Faye looked down, searching Ed's still face.  "Don't you trust me Faye?"

"No," she whispered.  Vicious snarled and stood quickly, pulling Faye to her feet sharply.  

"Why don't you give me the grand tour?" he suggested, turning her around and placing the gun at her back.  Faye refused to move.

"What's the point of this?" she asked, turning her head slightly.  "Why do this here?"  Vicious twisted the muzzle of the gun into her back fiercely and pushed her forward.

"I was going to meet you at 3 Illyria Street…the opera house on Mars.  Remember, Faye?  It's where you and I first met after 50 years of separation."  Faye lowered her head as guilt and remorse rose to her throat like bile.  She continued to walk forward slowly and mechanically.  "But then I decided I'd much rather kill Spike."  Faye gasped sharply, eyes widening, and halted.  

"No, there's no reason – " Vicious shoved her harshly, then grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back when she stumbled forward.  He pressed the gun firmly into her flesh and slipped an arm around her waist.  "Don't get in the way, Faye," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.  Faye twisted around suddenly, her face inches from his.  The gun slid across her skin as she moved, finally digging into her stomach.

"Don't do this," she implored desperately.  "We can go somewhere and…and talk.  I'll never come back here, just…let's go now!"  Vicious studied her silently, then lifted his arm from her waist and ran his fingers through her sleek hair, brushing a few strands behind her ear.

"Faye.  You would pretend to care for me, to protect Spike?"  He moved his hand away then whipped it across her face in a stinging slap.  Faye cried out, head twisting painfully on her neck.  "Keep moving," Vicious ordered, grabbing her by the arm and wheeling her around.  Faye covered her cheek, the skin tingling and reddening where he'd hit her.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as they approached the living room.  "So sorry I did this to you…"

"It's too late now, Faye," he responded, his voice eerily calm.  "Spike will die for your betrayal."  They were close now – Faye could see the top of Spike's head on the armrest, one arm hanging limply over the side of the couch. How could he not wake up after that explosion?  She had to do something, had to warn him –  

Before she could open her mouth, Vicious shoved her up against the wall and fired two shots into Spike's head.
    
    Two glass eyes  
    
    I'll fuckin tell you lies  
    
    I'm on the side of the road  
    
    You won't fuckin die  
    
      
    
    Yeah, yeah  
    
    Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot  
    
    Pow  
    
      
    
    Fuck this road  
    
    Well, fuck you too  
    
    I'll fuckin kill your best friend  
    
    What you fuckin gonna do  
    
      
    
    Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot  
    
    Pow  
    
    Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot  
    
    Pow

**Hehehe, I am so evil with my cliffhangers…rest assured, I'm working hard on ch. 19!**

**"Six Shooter" by Queens of the Stone Age**


	19. Just One Man Beneath the Sky

**Quick update, cause lord knows you need one after so long:**

**            Spikey-boy finally reconciles with both Julia's and Vicious' death, which is ironic since Faye has just discovered that Vicious is actually still alive (gasp!…did you guys see that one coming?  Just curious…).  She has a dream/memory of speaking to David right before she boards the space shuttle of doom.  He proposes to her, and she reveals that she's pregnant!  (Awww, naughty, naughty!)  Faye wakes up, realizes she's going to be late for her rendezvous with Vicious, and rushes off to get in the Red Tail.  However, apparently Vicious decided to bring the party to the Bebop.  He forces Faye, at gunpoint, to accompany him to the living room area, where Spikey-boy is fast asleep.  As soon as they step into the room, Vicious fires two shots into Spike's head…Read on to find out what happens!**

"No!" Faye screamed, covering her mouth as his head burst, spraying blood everywhere…or was it juice?  Vicious growled and dragged Faye back to him, placing the gun just above her ear.  The lights flickered on overhead and Spike stepped out from the kitchen, jacketless and holding his own gun steady.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, wearing Vicious' face, but you're going to pay for staining my jacket."  Faye felt her knees weaken, and she almost laughed with relief.  What she thought was Spike's arm hanging over the couch was really just the sleeve of his jacket, and his 'head,' only a melon.

"You're gonna pay for that cantaloupe too," Jet grumbled from across the room, clutching his gun.  "That was for tomorrow's breakfast and it's damn hard finding a ripe one this time of year."  Vicious shifted his cold gaze from Spike to Jet, whipped his gun out and shot the older man, then turned it back to Faye's head in one fluid motion.  Jet crumpled to the ground.

"Jet!" Spike shouted, turning his head slightly but keeping his eyes on Vicious.

"…I'm okay," he groaned.  "Shot in the leg again, and in the same goddamned place!"

"Can you stand?" Spike questioned.  Faye strained to see Jet's fallen form, but Vicious held her back.  There was a moment of silence, followed by a heavy thump and a string of curses.

"No," Jet replied angrily.  "The old wound hadn't had time to heal yet…there's a lot of blood."

"Okay, stay where you are, Jet."  Spike moved forward slowly.  "I can handle this joker on my own."  Vicious' lips curled into a smirk and he chuckled softly.

"Spike!" Faye blurted out, then hesitated, biting her lip.  How could she tell him?  It would completely shatter his newfound peace…  She took a deep breath and continued.  "Spike, it really is Vicious."  Spike glanced at her, eyes widening slightly.

"I don't know what this guy said to convince you, Faye, but you killed Vicious," he said calmly.  "I saw the body myself, touched the cold skin.  Vicious is dead."

"How can you say that?" Vicious rasped, a sardonic smile twisting his lips.  "We used to be the best of friends, you and I."  His icy eyes bored into Spike.  Spike snorted.

"Why don't you cut the crap and tell me what you're doing here," he shouted, annoyed.  

"She failed," Vicious replied, pressing the muzzle of the gun more firmly to Faye's head.  "And so you will both die before I leave here tonight."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Spike growled, lifting his gun slightly in response to Vicious' movement.

"I set it all up.  I set up everything with you, and Julia – it was all a test for Faye."  Spike's breath quickened but he didn't lower his weapon.  "I knew you'd come, Spike.  After my men shot down Julia, I knew you would come to end it.  The question was, would Faye come?"

"Enough!" Spike shouted, eyes narrowed.  "Tell me who you are!"

"You know who I am!" Vicious growled forcefully.  "You just won't admit it…you're pathetic, Spike.  You deserve to die."  Spike's gun arm began to shake slightly.

"You're not," he muttered, his voice faltering, "You're not him…I don't believe it…"  Vicious grinned.

"Julia deserved to die, too.  She was a worthless fool.  But at least she served a purpose in her death, drawing you to me…like the fly to the spider.  And Faye - "

"What does Faye have to do with it, Vicious?"  He used the name sarcastically, but there was a fear clouding his eyes and he was having difficulty breathing normally.

"Everything!" Vicious shouted furiously, jerking Faye more tightly against him, as if she had asked the question.  "Weren't you listening?  It was a test!  A test of love…" he muttered, a strange madness filling his eyes.  He was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath and regained some control.  "I contacted Faye that same day, did she tell you?  Of course not.  I merely told her that Julia was dead, and that you were coming to kill me."  Vicious smiled slowly.  "Oh yes, and I also told her that my men would ambush and kill you as soon as you stepped through the door."  Vicious laughed and Faye stared at the floor, a light flush tingeing her cheeks.  Spike hesitated, gaze shifting between the two.

"I don't – " he began.  Vicious cut him off smoothly.

"You should've seen her, Spike…the bloodlust shining through her eyes, cold fury outlining her face.  I'd never seen her so beautiful.  Her hunger for death rivaled your own."

"I don't hunger for death anymore," Spike said swiftly, glancing at Faye as he spoke.

"Too bad it was my death she desired," Vicious continued softly, ignoring Spike and studying Faye's face intently.  "What kind of woman longs to kill her fiancé of 50 years?"  Spike stiffened and growled under his breath.  Vicious glanced up and smiled faintly.  "Why act upset?  I know you are already aware of Faye's and my past…I've been monitoring you very closely, Spike.  When my men reported that you'd entered Schlage's house, I ordered that sniveling, cowardly spy killed so that you could not come any closer to the truth.  And the bank manager, he was easily persuaded that it was in his best interests to keep you away from Schlage's safety deposit box.  However, when you succeeded in making off with the disc despite everything, I decided that it wasn't worth the risk."

"What do you mean?" Spike demanded.

"I did not want to risk you discovering my continued existence.  And I thought Faye might make an effort to conceal our past from you, although now I see that she actually wanted you to figure it out.  Perhaps she believed you would help her…" Vicious released a short, barking laugh.  "As if you could care for the woman who's fiancé killed your Julia." 

"Ex-fiancé."  The words tumble out of her mouth before she could stop them.  Vicious snarled and seemed ready to strike her, then paused and smiled grimly.

"Come now, Faye…don't be like that."  He slid his arm back so that his hand splayed out over her abdomen.  "Think of the baby."  Faye gasped and a sob tore from her throat.

"You know very well that child died in the accident," she said in a low voice, shaking uncontrollably.  Spike's jaw dropped open.

"Baby?"

"No!  It was you!" Vicious raged.  "I told you not to go…you killed our baby!"

"I'm glad!" Faye screamed suddenly, wrenching out of his grip and turning to face him.  Vicious still clutched one of her wrists and held the gun level to her head, watching her intently as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.  "I'm glad it died, glad I didn't raise it with you!  You, who all along had the ability to become this monster-"

"Shut-up!" Vicious screamed, turning the gun sideways and slamming it against her head.  Faye cried out faintly, her knees buckling.  Vicious caught her and pulled her against him roughly, digging the muzzle of the gun into her scalp.  "I'm the monster?  You, Faye, you…" His voice broke and he trailed off, his head dropping down over Faye's.  Spike looked on, bewildered and hardly daring to breath.  If not for the gun, Vicious and Faye would look like two lovers embracing.  After several moments of deep silence, Vicious lifted his head, his face resuming its normal hard, cold appearance.  

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly, his eyes glazed.  "Everyone will die tonight."  He cocked his gun.

You shout in your sleep.  
Perhaps the price is just too steep.  
Is your conscience at rest   
If once put to the test?  
You awake with a start   
To just the beating of your heart.  
Just one man beneath the sky,  
Just two ears, just two eyes.  
  
You set sail across the sea   
Of long past thoughts and memories.  
Childhood's end, your fantasies   
Merge with harsh realities.  
And then as the sail is hoist,  
You find your eyes are growing moist.  
All the fears never voiced   
Say you have to make your final choice.  
 

People, people…when I said I'd post the next chapter soon, naturally I meant in 3 months!  It's obvious, really…  Okay, you really have every reason to hate me, but couldn't you review anyway?  Purty puh-lease?

**_Lyrics are the first half of pink floyd's "Childhood's End."  The second half will be up next chapter.  _**


	20. To Say We Know the Reason Why

**Umm…sorry????  Yeah, I kinda abandoned this fic for a while…I dunno why.  Anyhow, please read and forgive all.  You'll prolly need to review a couple chapters…ahem.  Oh, and please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes.  I didn't edit very carefully cause I wanted to get this out quickly, after I finished writing it.**  
  
****

Who are you and who am I   
To say we know the reason why?  
Some are born; some men die   
Beneath one infinite sky.  
There'll be war, there'll be peace.  
But everything one day will cease.  
All the iron turned to rust;  
All the proud men turned to dust.  
And so all things, time will mend.  
So this song will end.  
  


Faye remained perfectly silent, her face hidden in Vicious' shirt.  Spike lowered his gun slowly and took a step forward.

            "Come on," Spike said softly, "we both know you're not going to kill her."  Vicious regarded him coldly.

            "Oh?"  His finger tightened over the trigger.

Click.

Nothing happened.  Spike forced his gun hand to relax.  Vicious opened the chamber of the gun he held.  "Three bullets missing…you never replaced that bullet you lodged in my look-alike's head?"  Faye didn't respond.  Her breathing had altered, grown shallower, but other than that she hadn't made a sound for several minutes.  "It's very strange…" Vicious murmured, snapping the chamber back into place.  "The gun holds six bullets all together.  I myself only shot two…how could it end up back – "

            "The chamber spun when you struck me."  Faye's voice was muffled, but both Vicious and Spike heard her clearly.

            "Ah," Vicious said.  Spike noticed how his hands shook, and had been shaking ever since he pulled the trigger of Faye's gun.  "Then I suppose there was a fifty-fifty chance…but it seems very strange that it would land on that particular spot – "

            "Vicious."  Spike reached into his pants pocket and pulled out three bullets.  He tossed them over to Vicious, who caught them deftly with his left hand while still keeping his arm around Faye.  "I'm ready to end it, aren't you?"  Spike moved into the center of room calmly.  Vicious studied his rival intensely, then released Faye, pushing her to the side.  Faye raised her head, glancing at him and Spike fearfully.

            "How gallant of you," Vicious said, lifting his hand to indicate the bullets Spike had thrown to him.  He jerked open the barrel of Faye's gun.  "But as you know, I prefer to use my blade."  He emptied the gun of the remaining three bullets and tossed all six down the hallway behind him.  He held the gun out to Faye, who was staring straight ahead to Spike.

            "Why are you doing this?" Faye whispered.  Spike kept his gaze fixed on Vicious, his jaw clenched tightly.

            "This is how it was supposed to happen, Faye," he responded, his voice a dull monotone.

            "I don't believe that!" she screamed, taking a step towards him.  Vicious snarled and yanked her back roughly, slamming her into the wall.  She groaned as her head banged against steel, and she slid to the floor in a graceful heap.  Vicious knelt next to her, drawing out his sword.

            "You had your chance to kill me, darling," he whispered hoarsely, his breath stirring her hair.  "But instead you murdered poor Mr. Matsumoto."  Faye released a strangled sob as she jerked her head up.

            "Witney…"

            "Did he try to stop you?  Did he try to explain, Faye?  Or didn't you give him the chance before you blew his fucking brains out?"

*

"You won't go through with it."

"You think not?"

*

            "You're lying!" Faye pleaded, as the memory of that gunshot rang in her ears.

            "I found him rotting in some jail cell on Mars," Vicious commented, brushing the flat side of his blade under the tips of her hair and over her exposed throat.  "He agreed to do a little job for me after I bought his freedom.  He had undergone plastic surgery before, and when I told him you were involved…"

*

"You won't go through with it."

*

            Faye shuddered uncontrollably and felt her body sag forward against Vicious' sword, the blade etching a line of red on her pale throat.

            "Careful, Faye," Vicious whispered, a sadistic smile twisting his face.

            "Vicious!" Spike growled.  "Stop fucking stalling…or are you afraid to face an eternity in Hell?"  Vicious rose to his feet and stalked to the center of the room, the tip of his blade scraping against the floor.

            "I feel the flames licking at my feet every day," he responded, a manic gleam in his bloodshot eyes.  "But I can't deny the hunger that's been growing inside me – to watch the life fade from your eyes when I pierce through your flesh with my sword."  Spike grinned suddenly.

            "Well I hate to disappoint you," he drawled, lifting his hand and tapping a finger next to his left eye, "but I only got one with any life left in it."  

Vicious snarled and darted forward, thrusting his sword at Spike.  Spike twisted sideways and danced away, cocking his gun as Vicious' blade sliced through one of the couch cushions and sent a cloud of white feathers bursting into the air.  He knelt and shot twice, the first one grazing his opponent's shoulder and the second sparking as it ricocheted off Vicious' raised sword.  Spike vaulted over the table and Vicious followed, his blade ripping through Spike's shirt and leaving a long, diagonal cut across his back.  Spike rolled to the side as Vicious leapt over him, the syndicate leader's momentum causing him to slide on the metal floor.  Spike flipped onto his stomach and released a shot into Vicious' foot while the swordsman tried to regain his balance.  Vicious grunted and fell to one knee, his blade still poised and ready.  The two men regarded each other warily, their pants filling the silent room.  Faye lifted her head as the fighting ceased, one hand pressed against her throat.

"Are you ready to finish it, Spike?" Vicious asked as he climbed to his feet.  Spike followed suit, his gun gripped loosely in his hand.

"I've always been ready," he responded quietly.  He turned his head and stared directly into Faye's wide, disbelieving eyes.  "Since the moment Julia died."  Faye felt her world constrict and a torrent of voices from the past poured into her head:

*

"You won't go through with it."

"I like being around you, Faye.  Do you feel the same way?"

"I don't remember…"

"This is why I have to run…girls are quite dangerous when they're being proposed to."

"Not always sad, like Faye-Faye."

"Everyone changes.  Don't try to be someone you're not."

"Forgive me?"

"I need you now."

"Yes."

"I'm going to wait right here, Faye!  I won't leave until you're back in my arms, telling me you love me!"

"I don't want anything more to do with you, I hate you!"

"Forget him, Faye.  We both need to.  Vicious is dead, he's past."

*

            Faye stumbled to her feet, the room spinning oddly.  Spike and Vicious seemed frozen in time, their breathing slow and silent.  Faye kept her eyes on Spike; the blood caked on the torn edges of his shirt, the droplet of sweat stroking down his cheek, his lips tightened in a grimace, his eyes…  Faye reached the couch, and then the table.  Neither man turned, neither one noticed her presence at all.  She was close enough to feel the heat radiating from their bleeding bodies.  Spike's eyes…

*

"I need you now."

*

"Yes," Faye breathed.

Spike's muscles tightened as he prepared to throw himself forward.  Faye moved with him, situating herself between the two flashing, metal weapons.  The gunshot and the blade coincided in a simple symphony.  The bullet grazed her side and buried itself in Vicious' abdomen.  The sword pierced through her left shoulder, parting flesh and muscle and vein.  Faye watched in distracted fascination as Vicious released a wordless, strangled sound and his eyes widened.

"Tell me the reason," he whispered, "why did you love him best?"  The moment before they went dead, Faye thought she saw a swirl of blue darken his pale orbs.  Vicious dropped to his side, pulling his blade with him.  Faye felt steadying hands grasp her from behind and slow her decent to the floor.  

            "You fucking idiot, you stupid fucking idiot!"  Faye tore her eyes away from Vicious' still form and focused on the shaking hands pressed against her breast.  Up the slim, muscled arm, over the hunched and bleeding shoulder, across the sharp cheekbone.  His mismatched eyes refused to meet her gaze.  Faye shifted and placed her right hand over Spike's.  He looked.

            "Take me with you," she gasped out, dizzy with the effort of talking.  "Don't leave me."

            "You're the one who's leaving, Faye."  Faye felt something hot on her cheeks, and she thought Spike might be crying for her.  But they were her own tears.

            "I wish…" Faye closed her eyes.  "I wish I had met you seventy years ago."  Spike shook his head slowly.

            "No."  

And he did cry then, although she didn't see him.     

**There WILL be an epilogue…do not fret.**

**Lyrics are the second half of Pink Floyd's "Childhood's End" (First half in previous chapter).**

**PLEASE review!!  It will really help me figure out what to do for the epilogue…and yes, this is my pathetic attempt to weasel reviews out of you people.**      


	21. Epilogue: Ne Me Quitte Pas

Ne me quitte pas  
Il faut oublier  
Tout peut s'oublier  
Qui s'enfuit déj  
Oublier le temps  
Des malentendus  
Et le temps perdu  
A savoir comment  
Oublier ces heures  
Qui tuaient parfois  
A coups de pourquoi  
Le coeur du bonheur

Do not leave me  
It is necessary to forget  
All can be forgotten  
Who flees already  
To forget time  
Misunderstandings  
And wasted time  
Namely how  
To forget these hours  
Who killed sometimes  
With blows of why  
The heart of happiness

"We're going to need some suction here."

"Yes, doctor."

"How's she doin', doc?"

"Faye-Faye!  Wakie, wakie, Edward wants to play!"

"She can't hear you, Ed.  She's dying…right, doc?"

"Spike!  Shut the hell up!"

"I'm just telling her the truth – "

"Nurse, who let these people in here?!  Get them out!"

"Yes, doctor."

"Faye-Faye, don't die…"

"Get your fucking hands off me."

"Calm down, Spike.  It's alright, we're leaving."

"Faye-Faye.  Faye!  Faye!" 

When Faye opened her eyes, she felt all the pain she hadn't after being run through with Vicious' sword.  A sunburst of agony lit her limbs on fire, causing her to release a short moan and squeeze her eyes shut again.  

"So you're awake."  Faye rolled her head slightly and peered out of the corners of her eyes.  Spike sat on the edge of the coffee table, his long legs stretched out as he rolled an unlit cigarette between his thumb and forefinger.  Faye studied him silently.  "You were out for almost four days.  I was beginning to worry."  This elicited a soft snort of disbelief from Faye.  Spike looked at her through narrowed eyes, setting his cigarette on table.  "Why did you do that, Faye?"  Faye licked her lips and swallowed.

            "I just find it hard to believe that Spike Spiegel was actually worried about someone besides himself – "

            "That's not what I meant," he interrupted, giving her a hard stare.  Faye turned her head away and stared at the yellow couch cushions.

            "I'm tired," she said dully.  "Leave me alone."  She heard a rustling sound, and long, cool fingers slipped under her chin and pulled her face back.

            "No."  His lean, angled form hovered over her, mismatched eyes shadowed by his unruly tangle of hair.

            "You're so selfish."  Faye trembled under the weight of her words.  "You never think about anybody but yourself."

            "And who else should I think about?"  Faye flinched and tried to pull away, causing Spike to tighten his grip.  "Faye…"

            "That's right," she whispered.  "Now that Julia's dead – " Spike released her suddenly, as though her skin burned his touch.

            "Fuck, Faye!"  She closed her eyes, her mouth curving in a bitter smile.

            "You've already done that, Spike."  Faye listened as his angry footsteps faded into the distance.  A moment later, stale cigarette smoke wafted into the room.

Ne me quitte pas  
Je ne vais plus pleurer  
Je ne vais plus parler  
Je me cacherai l  
A te regarder  
Danser et sourire  
Et à t'écouter  
Chanter et puis rire  
Laisse-moi devenir  
L'ombre de ton ombre  
L'ombre de ta main  
L'ombre de ton chien  
Ne me quitte pas  
Ne me quitte pas  
Ne me quitte pas  
Ne me quitte pas.

  
Do not leave me  
I will not cry anymore  
I will not speak anymore  
I will hide there  
With you to look at  
To dance and smile  
And to listen to you  
To sing and then to laugh  
Let me become  
Shade of your shade  
Shade of your hand  
Shade of your dog  
Do not leave me  
Do not leave me  
Do not leave me  
Do not leave me.

Faye spent the next two days on the couch.  On the second day, she got up to take a shower and changed into a white tank top and cotton shorts, but then she returned to her position on the couch.  No one tried to make her move.  And she felt vindictive satisfaction in stealing Spike's favorite sleeping spot.

            Edward pranced around, showing her deliciously big bounty heads, or explaining a tricky hacking job Jet asked her to do, or asking to paint Faye's nails.  Faye feigned interest and declined the nail polish.  She occasionally engaged in staring contests with Ein, which she always won.  

            Jet fixed her special dinners, giving her choice pieces and arranging the food in a cutesy, artistic fashion.  Faye ate a few bites while he watched, but gave the rest to Ed or Ein after he left.  Jet took great pride in his dishes and Faye didn't want to hurt his feelings.  She often wondered why she should care, but kept up the act anyway.

            Spike was always off chasing bounties.  He avoiding the living room at all costs, and that suited Faye just fine.

            One night, Faye had a peculiar dream.  She dreamed that Julia was still alive, and that Spike left the Bebop to chase after her.  Faye tried to stop him, but he slipped out of her fingers like a shadow, saying, "I love her."  The Bebop melted away and Faye found herself sitting in a dark room, Spike's arms looped around her waist and his head buried in her hair.  She pushed him away, but he only clung tighter.  "Julia," he whispered, over and over.  Faye looked down and watched her hair grow longer and lighten into gold.  And suddenly, she was floating in midair.  Faye opened her eyes and found herself wrapped tightly in someone's arms, being carried away from the couch.

            "Spike."  She lifted her head a fraction and saw his lips tighten as he stared straight ahead.

            "You were talking," he told her.  "You said 'Julia.'"

            "Julia," Faye repeated.

            "And," he looked down at her, "you were crying."  Faye touched her fingers to her face and felt wetness.

            "It was just a dream."  They reached her room and Spike set her on the bed gently.  Faye turned her back to him and waited for him to leave.  She heard two heavy thuds and turned to see Spike removing his shoes and jacket.  "What are you doing?"  He didn't answer, but approached the bed with heavy eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt and lowered his weight on top of her.  She twisted her head to the side, biting her lip.  "Spike…" He brushed her hair back and pressed his lips against her jaw and throat.  Faye felt tears fill her eyes and she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.  "You make me feel worthless," she whispered brokenly.  He stopped then, his face inches from hers as he fiddled with strands of her hair.

            "Do you love me, Faye?"

            "No."

            "I don't believe you."  He slipped his hands under her shirt.

            "I won't!" Faye gasped, pushing against his shoulders.

            "Do you think I hate you, Faye?"

            "Yes," she sobbed.

            "I do," he responded fiercely, groaning as he captured her lips in a rough kiss.  "I hate that I'm attracted to you."  He leaned over and bit her earlobe gently.  "I hate that you keep risking your life to protect mine.  But mostly," he paused in his ministrations to stare at her intensely.  "I hate that you make me forget all about Julia."  Faye wept and Spike watched her silently, wiping away her tears with slender fingers.  Afterwards, she felt spent and empty.

            "I don't think I trust you," she said.  Spike smiled, apprehension darkening his eyes.

            "That's probably best," he agreed.

            "Do you want me, Spike?" Faye whispered.

            "I already told you that I do," he responded evenly, ignoring the flame of desire that passed through his body.  Faye lowered her eyes.

            "Take me.  And then leave."

            "I won't leave."

            "Bullshit," Faye growled, her eyes flashing.

            "Faye.  You asked me not to, remember?"

*

"Take me with you.  Don't leave me."

*    

            "I was afraid," she said simply.

            "So was I," he admitted hoarsely, his jaw clenched.

            "Now you suddenly want to be with me?" Faye asked, fighting the urge to laugh hysterically.  Spike tilted his head and glanced at her sidewise.

            "It's not so sudden."

            "And…Julia?"

            "Julia's dead."

            "Am I your consolation prize?" Faye asked sarcastically.

            "Am I yours?" Spike challenged.  The two of them eyed each other warily.  Faye sighed.

            "This won't be easy."

            "No."  Spike lowered his head and covered her lips with his own.  This time Faye responded, feeling the despair lift from her shoulders.

            "Fucking kids," Jet growled as he passed by the open door.

            "Oooh, what are Spike-person and Faye-Faye doing?" Ed asked curiously, pausing to stare with Tomato situated on her head and Ein at her heels.  Jet grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away.

            "Come on, Ed.  You can help trim my Bonsais."

            "Snip-snip, Bonsai!" Ed hollered from a distance.  Faye gazed up at Spike.

            "I guess it's official now."

            "I guess so."  

He smiled, and for once, his eyes smiled too.

Eeek!  I don't know what to do with myself…I finally finished it!  Let me know what you think – did I leave any loose ends?  Was the ending too corny?  Or too abrupt?  It's not too late to make adjustments!

**Lyrics: first and last stanza of "Ne Me Quitte Pas" followed by the translated version for those of us who do not speak Francais (Francaise?  Francoiseymemf…point taken).  I've heard several versions of this song, but my favorite has to be the one sung by Nina Simone.  If you haven't heard it, I suggest downloading.  It's truly beautiful.  **   

I know it's over so you have no incentive to review, but please do anyway.  I'll give you a candy bar…


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